


Red Moon

by SolidCoffee



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Gen, also don't worry about not having read my comic, anyway, as is the case with the dysfunctional duo au, like neither of these stories are at the point they're supposed to be with this crossover, self indulgence is key here, so i'm trying to write it in a way that lets you avoid having to read those first or whatever, there are so many freaking ocs in here hello, this kind of takes place outside of time in the comic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolidCoffee/pseuds/SolidCoffee
Summary: For mysterious reasons, the universe of The Dysfuctional Duo is merging with another, causing some tumultuous results as the two universes try to find a balance between their rules.This is my ultimate passion project since it's a crossover between my AU and my own comic (to which, yes, hello, I made myself the main character of).This is pure self indulgent nonsense.***On hiatus until I get a proper grasp on managing my writing projects again**





	1. Cathode Has a Bad Time

**Author's Note:**

> For those unfamiliar with my webcomic, don't worry. It's not out yet.  
> I'm great at these things.  
> [Here's the character pages, though.](https://anti-solidcoffee.tumblr.com/charpages) Not all are done but still.

  

  

Cathode was no stranger to viruses. Being a Glitch made her more susceptible to them. The wires within her had often felt the pulse of a virus as it latched onto her.

But something is very wrong about this virus. There is no needle-like shock that came with each jolt of electricity that shot through her like a synthetic heartbeat. There is no feeling of sluggishness, no delay to her movements. It's a virus she hasn't experienced before.

"Cathode?" The voice comes from behind her, but she doesn't turn. She knows the voice. It's the only voice she expected to ever hear when she came to this universe (the 404 Urbazone). It's Salem's voice. Salem - the only Error she allows to live.

It's her job as a Guide to kill the Errors that suck the 404 Zones dry of life and free will. But Salem is a stubborn Error. When she met him he was already in complete control over the Urbazone. Every inhabitant of the Zone was under his control. There was no free will.

But he didn't use it like all the other Errors. He had no wish for ultimate control of the infinite mid universes that are 404 Zones. He was already the most powerful Error Cathode would ever come across - even more powerful than Overhaul, who was the most successful error when it came to infecting the Zones. No, Salem didn't want that. He wanted something much more diabolical from Cathode.

He wanted to prove to her that her prejudice against Errors could be challenged. He wanted to help her. He had no desire to fight her.

He wanted to be her friend.

It took a very long time for Cathode to give in.

She never wanted his help. She never thought she needed his help. She was stronger than he thought she was. At least, she believed she was.

He knew exactly how strong Cathode was. He knew exactly how strong everyone was. And he knew she couldn't defeat Overhaul the first time she tried. She didn't listen to him, and he had to carry her broken pieces back to her home zone, the Electriczone, so she could be fixed.

It was months before she thanked him for that. And it would be months before she thanked him for anything he did within that period of time.

She never wanted to be his friend. But here she is. And now they were a bit closer than just friends - a shock to her, since it was on her own volition. But it's still hard for her to be close with him, no matter how hard he tries to get her to open up. It's easy for him - Salem always seems to be overflowing with emotion in everything he does. But Cathode can't reciprocate it.

"Is something wrong?" He asks. She still doesn't turn.

"I'm fine." She says. Her voice is as robotic as she is. Just as cold, too.

She stares out the window of the apartment that overlooks the cityscape that encompasses the whole Urbazone. Everything is bathed in black and a warm, neon magenta. Everything in the Urbazone is like that. It's Salem's favorite color combination. It doesn't explain why he's covered almost head to toe in purple all the time. Cathode assumes it's so he stands out amongst it all. Though standing out is not hard for him no matter where he goes. He wears white stiletto boots and has three eyes for crying out loud. Those aren't a staple of any other Zone as far as Cathode has found.

Something ticks in the back of her neck and her head twitches. She can't tell if it's the virus's doing or her own body behaving as it usually does. One of the worst drawbacks of being a Glitch - that and having been ostracized by everyone in the Electriczone until she proved herself to be a worthy Guide for any human who crossed over to that universe.

That's the first priority of a Guide: to protect anyone from the Real Universe. It's such a rare job to accomplish, though, since no one comes over from the Real Universe. The only time it comes up is when there's someone who exists in both the Real Universe (to the right of the 404 Zones) and from the Pseudo Universe (to the left of the 404 Zones). Sometimes their souls in the Pseudo Universe will attempt to unite with their self in the Real Universe, and then they cross over into the 404 Zones while leaving their bodies behind. It's the Guide's job to make sure they survive until their soul returns to their body in the Pseudo Universe. It's a whole ordeal.

But Cathode has done it, and now she can travel freely between the 404 Zones and the Pseudo Universe. She spends most of her time, currently, in the 404 Zones to destroy the Errors. Every once in awhile she goes to the Pseudo Universe for a break, but it's becoming less and less often.

Something in her is telling her to go there now. But it's not a feeling that's telling her to go and protect the Pseudo Universe.

No, it's a feeling telling her to protect herself.

"I have to go, Salem," she says.

"Where?" He asks. She hears him move and she finally turns to look at him. He's getting out of his bed. As per usual when she comes to his apartment, he isn't wearing a shirt. Or his shoes. He barely has pants on. But his dark purple hair still has the flecks of gold glitter in them. She assumes it's a part of him, just like the third black and gold eye in the forehead is. "Is it an Error or something?"

"No." She says.

"Then what is it?" He walks over to stand next to her where Cathode is reminded of how short he really is when he doesn't have his boots on. He barely comes up to her neck.

"Nothing you can fix."

His eyebrows furrow and he frowns. "Cathode..."

"It-" her head twitches again, as does a few fingers. "It has to deal with the Pseudo Universe."

"Oh." He's still frowning, but his expression softens a bit. Cathode looks back to the city, as does Salem. Everything's quiet.

It lasts a moment before a shock shoots through Cathode's spine and makes her electricity surge more than before. Her body convulses and she almost fully collapses, just catching herself at the last moment. She sits bent over on the floor as Salem moves to help her. Before he can touch her, she holds up a hand to him and he stops.

"Cathode...Cathode what's wrong?" He asks.

"I- I- I- I-" Her head twitches as she attempts to speak. She pins it between her hands and tries again. "I don't- don't- don't- know I- I-" Her voice turns into a single screeching noise that forces Salem to block his ears with his hands.

In an instant, she disappears. Leaving Salem confused and alone.

She's no longer in the Urbazone, or any of the 404 Zones. She's in the Pseudo Universe. More specifically, she's in Beverly Hills (named after the song, not the place). Home of the Writer's Guild and all their mishappenings. It's exactly where she was planning to go before, but she was hoping to be in a much better state. The virus was more potent - more destructive - than the other ones she experienced before.

And of course, she appears in the middle of the road. She’s often told it’s more cinematic that way. She’s probably nowhere near where she wants to be -  wherever that is. She has no idea where the Writer's Guild is. They could be in space for all she knows. It's happened at least once.

Cars dawdle past her as she struggles to stand. That's one of the perks of Beverly Hills: it's impossible to be hit by a car or get in a car crash. Everyone's just too safe of drivers for that to happen. Even when a robot lady with a TV for a head and is practically having a seizure just appears out of nowhere.

Once she finds her footing, she wobbles over to the sidewalk. The curb trips her and she has to grab onto a nearby lamppost to keep herself from crashing to the ground and cracking her screen. As soon as she touches the lamppost, a surge of energy shoots through her and into it, making the bulb explode. The few civilians around her who had moved to help jump back. Cathode forces herself upright and grabs onto the nearest person, who's eyes go wide as he stumbles back. Though Cathode wishes to not cause this human any more fear, her voice comes out as a jumbled scream with the word "GUILD" barely understandable. The man points in a direction and Cathode stumbles onwards.

Up ahead of her she spies the Guild in the midst of some argument. She doesn't care. The argument is irrelevant.

When she spots me - Jamie - there's a sudden, intense pull from within her. There's something she needs to tell me. She doesn't understand what it is, but she feels it will kill her - and possibly everyone - if she doesn't tell me.

Of course, when she grabs me by the shoulders and spins me around to face her with no explanation, I don't understand it either.

“Cathode?” I ask.

Her voice is a single, ear piercing tone. The rest of the Guild flinch and cover their ears. I desperately want to, but Cathode's grip is so tight on my shoulders that I can't move. Her screen flashes glitchy and corrupted images that I can't make out. They bleed into just being colors. A jolt of electricity shoots through Cathode and into me.

"Ow!" I yell, struggling to loosen Cathode's grip on me. "Cathode, let me go! Please, I can’t understand what you want from me if you don't let me go."

The noise continues and I can see her screen cracking. From the cracks oozes both black and red, syrupy liquids. The images on the broken screen begin to form together, I still don't understand them, but there's some sort of pattern. Reds and yellows, then a blue the same as Cathode's electricity and my power outfit. Her screen circles through the colors as more and more of the liquid seeps through the cracks. The electricity gets stronger and I can feel my ability to fight it lessen.

The screen flashes a new, complete image - a red moon.

And then it all stops.

Cathode's scream silences. Her screen goes black. The liquid stops oozing out. Her electric current shuts off. Her grip on me is gone and she falls on top of me. Somehow I manage to hold onto her with her crushing me - she's taller and heavier than me thanks to all the metal she's made of. It's still a struggle, but I've got her.

"Cathode?" I ask. Nothing. I look over my shoulder at the Guild. "Guys, what do we do?"

"We need to get her back to the Mansion." Realization says. "We can't do anything here, especially with-"

A shock wave of black energy streaks down the intersection behind us. The alarms of the parked cars pierce through the air and the cars on the road are just barely missed by the energy.

"Right, DJ's gone off the deep end." I say.

That was a bit of an understatement.

An hour prior, DJ - the 1st iteration of an evil me - had gotten hold of an ability that allowed her to steal anyone else's powers. Since then, she's been going after some of our most powerful enemies and essentially making them useless while making herself practically unbeatable.

I look at the limp Cathode in my arms and back at the Guild. "You guys take Cathode. I'll deal with DJ."

"Jamie, she's literally been draining out the powers of everyone." Muse says. "She's already gotten Fear's and Procrastination's, it'll be a walk in the park to get yours!"

I nod. "I know, but I'd rather she just take mine than take all of ours." I hand Cathode off to Ambition and Unexpecations, who shouldn't have a problem carrying her between them. "Alright, go home, I'll deal with DJ and get back to you guys as soon as I can."

They nod and fly off with Cathode while I prepare myself to get completely annihilated like the chump I am.


	2. Sudden City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few members of the Justice League have to investigate a city that appeared out of nowhere - or at least what’s left of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: To enhance a bit of the story, I drew one of the scenes described. It contains blood because it’s someone getting their heart ripped out (not a spoiler, it’s not a major character or anything). If this becomes an issue with a lot of people I can take out the drawing and post it somewhere else with a link instead in case people still wish to see it.
> 
> I haven't changed the story's warning because of this because I don't think this will be a running theme, however, if someone thinks I should change it I will.

 

There was no reason for a city to be there. There never was a city there before, so why is there one all of the sudden?

Or at least, why were there the remnants of a city that should never have been there?

Batman looked around the rubble. The Justice League hadn't exactly been called to the scene, but they were certainly alerted to it. He, Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Arrow, and Black Canary had all shown up. Everyone but Batman were searching for survivors.

Batman was searching for answers.

An hour earlier, that spot had been a farmer's field. Now it was a ruined city. And no small city at that. Superman said it seemed to be at least 70 square miles from the sky.

So where did it come from?

And secondly, where were any of the inhabitants? The rest of the group were having no luck with their search. There wasn't a single body - living or dead - to be found. There weren't even any hints at them. No signs that there had ever been life. Even the things that seemed to have been dropped in the moment had a cold feeling to them - not just in touch, but in the vibe they gave off as well. The city was dead.

"There's just nothing here," Wonder Woman said as she walked up to Batman.

"There's a whole city here," Batman said.

"You know what she means." Superman said, landing on the ground next to him and giving him a little shove on the shoulder. "It's weird. It's almost like...a model city or something. Like it's supposed to give off the idea that there were people here, but it's missing something."

"People." Batman said.

"I meant something else." He said. A streak of red sped over to them, and Flash stopped next to the group. "Did you find anything?"

"No." Flash said. "But I did notice that some of the buildings don't have anything in them, at all. It's like they were there just to fill up space and make the city look bigger."

Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow. "Why would they just build buildings to fill up space?"

Flash shrugged. "Aesthetic, I guess."

"That seems rather wasteful." She said.

"Or maybe it's because the city's not real." Batman said.

"Oh, it's real alright." Black Canary said, walking up to the group besides Green Arrow. "Mr. Bigshot here tripped over the rubble."

"I did not trip." Green Arrow said.

"So you made a conscious decision to fall over a pile of debris?" She asked with a smile. He didn't respond.

"Why did you say the city's not real?" Wonder Woman asked as Batman bent down to the rubble at his feet.

He picked up a piece between his fingers and crushed it with no effort at all. "I may be strong, but I'm not strong enough to turn a piece of brick to dust like that."

Black Canary crossed her arms and looked over at Green Arrow, still smiling. "And you still tripped over it."

"Would you stop?" Green Arrow asked.

"Nope." She said.

Batman moved one of the bricks at his feet and noticed something sticking out underneath it. He pushed a few more bricks away and pulled out a comic book from the dust. Something was odd about it. It felt like there was a spark of life coming from it whereas everything else in the ruined city felt dead. Maybe it was just the colors. Though, as he flipped through it, there were just enough pages without color to cancel that idea out. Then he came across a panel that seemed familiar.

He looked up from where he crouched, then stood up and held the comic book out in front of him. He looked closer at the page again.

"What are you doing?" Both he and Superman said at the same time. Superman raised an eyebrow while Batman just looked at him.

"How'd you do that?" They both said, together again.

Batman handed him the comic book. "It's in there."

Superman took the comic book and looked at it himself. He was right, that same situation was in the comic book. Batman standing up with the comic book, speaking in unison with Superman, and then handing him the comic book.

"Now that's odd." Wonder Woman said, reading it over his shoulder. The same thing happened in the comic book.

Superman began to flip back through the pages. He stopped on one of a colorful cast of characters he'd never seen before speaking to each other, but with all the words in their speech bubbles missing, leaving only the white ovals. There was a blonde girl, a skeleton, a monkey with glasses, a redhead seemingly made of space, an octopus lady, and a white, humanoid animal. Flipping further on in the book showed what he assumed to be the city they were standing in, except not in ruins.

By this point, the others had gathered around him. Aside from Batman, that is. He was busy picking up another copy from off the ground.

"There's more." He said. He opened it up, landing on a page of him opening up the comic book exactly like he was doing right then. "It looks like they're the same one."

He flipped through the book, attempting to see what the last page of it was. But no matter how many pages he turned, there always seemed to be more. Even when he closed it and opened it from the back, there were still more pages.

It was actually sort of making him mad.

“Hey Batman,” Flash said. “You might want to look at this page.”

Batman gave up on his search for the end of the comic book and walked back over to the others. Superman turned his copy of the book around to show Batman the page in question:

At first glance, Batman thought that the character on the page simultaneously getting their heart ripped out and turning to gold was the Joker. It threw him off for a second as he wondered why the Joker would be there (though, honestly, he wasn't curious about why his heart would be getting ripped out. The Joker had a habit of aggravating the wrong people.) Upon closer inspection, he found that the character in question looked more like the blonde girl from before if she had made herself up with a wig and makeup. Her heart was being ripped out by an Egyptian woman dressed head to toe in gold. There were still no words in the speech bubbles, either, so the reason for the death was unclear. The next few panels showed the Joker look alike being tossed down a golden flight of stairs down to the feet of the blonde girl, who was in absolute shock of what she witnessed.

"It's weird, right?" Flash asked.

“Everything about this is weird.” Batman said.

“Do you think it could be an alternate universe or something?” He asked.

“It could be the remnants of an altered timeline.” Green Arrow said.

Batman flipped through his copy of the comic book. The blonde girl and her odd group showed up a lot throughout it - it seemed the comic was focused on them, or perhaps built around them. The only time he and the selected Justice League members showed up was in the ruined city. Other than that, they weren't anywhere to be seen.

However, there were certainly connections with them.

There was a scene in the book of the group taking shelter in a costume shop. The six had strange devices around their necks, and they looked utterly powerless and afraid. They wandered through the costume shop, picking out armor from the shelves that looked like legitimate armor - though that may have just been the art style. Though everyone else in the group was picking out realistic sets of armor like Ancient Roman and knight armor, the blonde girl picked something else.

She picked out Batman's suit.

Once she did that, everyone else dropped their choices and went to grab something else. The skeleton grabbed a Flash suit, the monkey (being too small for most outfits) grabbed Superman's cape, the space woman took Wonder Woman's armor, the octopus lady wore Black Canary's outfit, and the white, humanoid animal took Green Arrow's gear.

Then they all sat down behind the counter of the shop, wearing their chosen outfits, and fell asleep together in a pile on the ground.

Batman stared at the page. The blonde girl had gone straight for his suit without a glance at any of the others, and she was so excited to get it even if it probably wouldn’t protect her. And from how it looked, he didn’t exist in that world. She had no reason to know who he was or be excited about him.

It was odd.

He continued flipping onwards through the book, as did Superman. In fact, they were all looking through the comic book - though everyone had found their own copies. Now that Batman noticed, they seemed to be everywhere. Were they there before and they just hadn’t noticed? Or had they appeared just recently? It was unclear to him.

He turned the page, as did everyone else at the same time. In fact, they had all turned to the same page. A page where the group in the comic - no longer wearing the superhero costumes and the strange devices on their necks were gone, and were instead wearing almost robe-like attire of varying, bright colors - landed in the ruin city they, too, were in. Except in the comic, the Justice League wasn't there.

 _This must have happened before we got here_ , Batman thought.

The next few pages were of the group in the comic speaking to each other with the speech bubbles still blank, and then of six people descending from the cloudy sky to the ground in front of them. It was the Egyptian woman in gold from before, a man with four arms and a scorpion tail, a man-tiger hybrid, what Batman assumed to be a succubus, a bulky cyborg man, and a person in what amounted to be a leather skin suit with steam coming from the eye holes.

The original group gave each other last glances before launching towards the newly arrived six. They seemed to be putting up a good fight, until the blonde girl was struck by the Egyptian woman in the chest and thrown back into one of the barely standing buildings.

And in that exact moment, the building in front of the Justice League members collapsed.

In the comic, the blonde girl shot out of the falling building and threw the Egyptian woman into a different one. That same building in the Justice League’s world gained a human sized hole in the side of it.

The bulky cyborg man shot off a rocket, which exploded behind the octopus lady. In the Justice League's world, there was a sudden explosion on the road beyond them.

Wonder Woman took a quick glance at the comic book, then leapt over a pile of rubble and held up her gauntlets in an attempt to block...something. Whatever it was bounced off with a spark. She turned to the rest of the League that was there.

"Use the books to help them." She said. "They're all invisible to us and we are to all of them, but we can still help."

And like a flip of a switch, they were up and fighting. Each Justice League member had one of the comic books in hand when they hurried off to help one of the group whose story they had been following. Perhaps by coincidence or perhaps by choice, they helped the one's who had worn their costumes. Green Arrow to the white, humanoid animal, Black Canary to the octopus lady, Superman to the monkey, Flash to the skeleton, and Batman to the blonde girl.

If they weren't the Justice League, it would have been surprising how effective they were at fighting an invisible enemy. Unfortunately, the people in the comic didn't know this, and were increasingly perplexed at the fact the air around them was fighting alongside them. They were quick to accept it, however, as this was not the strangest thing to have ever happened to them.

But the Justice League wasn't just attacking air. They could feel their attempts doing something. They could feel their blows making impact. It didn't feel like it was for nothing.  With each hit they could feel a reverberation as the impact crossed from their world to the other.

They all quickly wished the people they were helping were more careful, though, because they had powers of their own and they weren't being too cautious. That wasn't entirely their faults since they couldn't see their new allies. It was just disconcerting to the League members that every once in awhile they'd have to dive out of the way of a blast of energy that could bring down a building in mere moments.

Soon enough it was over. The enemies were defeated and everyone could take a breather. The League members looked back to their comics, where they saw the group they had been helping looking around confused. Then a speech bubble came from the blonde girl, though this time it held words. And not only that - they could hear her, too.

"Thank you!" She said. The following speech bubbles were once more blank as she continued to talk. It seemed like she started rambling.

Wonder Woman smiled as she looked down at the comic and gave a quiet response. "You're welcome."

The group seemed confused again, though a bit excited. The exchanges glances before turning back to the air around them. Their numerous speech bubbles were still blank, but it appeared that they were still trying to communicate with the League members.

However, they cut themselves off as the cloudy sky above them swirled and turned black. The League looked up from their books, but found that their own sky hadn't changed. Returning to the comic, they found a ghoulish figure with tattered black robes and no visible face had descended from the dark clouds. It towered over the group, who all cowered behind the octopus lady. The ghoulish figure reached into its robes and pulled out a black cord. At the end of the cord was a silver pendant with a large ruby in its center. The figure bent down and handed the pendant to the octopus lady.

As soon as it touched her hand, the ruined city and the comic books were gone. The League members were left alone in the sunny field that the city had occupied before. They had no answers, no explanation, and no proof of what had happened. Just the memory of it.

It frustrated Batman.

It was much harder to solve mysteries with just a memory.


	3. Shifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman goes after Deathstroke for attacking Nightwing, but during their fight, it turns out their universe isn’t the only one wanting a piece of the Bat.

It was ages after the incident that Wonder Woman christened the Sudden City. Batman still had no satisfying answers, but that wasn't his concern for the night.

An hour ago he found out that Deathstroke had attempted to brainwash Nightwing. The attempt had failed but left Nightwing in a coma. As soon as Batman found out about the situation, he started searching the city for Deathstroke.

Now he had pinpointed Deathstroke’s location to a warehouse on the docks. From the point where he was perched on a tower of shipping containers, he could see Deathstroke inside the building, but he couldn't tell what he was doing. It looked like he was waiting, but it was unclear as to what he was waiting for.

"Batman? Can you hear me?" Robin asked through the earpiece.

"I don't need your help right now, Robin." He said.

"Well you might not need it right now, but you may need it soon. I know you've found Deathstroke, so I'm asking you to just wait for us to get there and help you."

"How did you know I found Deathstroke?"

"We tracked you and you haven’t moved in a while."

"You track me so often," the Joker's voice came through the earpiece. "I thought I'd return the favor this one time."

Of course Joker tracked him. It was probably with Batman's own technology, too. Working with that idiot on his reformation was bad enough, but he always found new, subtle ways to get under Batman's skin. Most people would consider it petty to get so frustrated over these small matters, but those people weren't working and living side by side with their arch-enemy to make them a better person.

"I won't need your help." He said, searching on his person and cape to find the tracking device. He found it on sole of his boot and immediately tore it off, then tossed it off to the side. “I can handle myself."

"Sure, we know that. But can you handle Deathstroke?" Joker asked.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

" _Yes_."

"Are you _sure_?"

Batman turned off the earpiece.

Deathstroke was still in the warehouse. What was he waiting for? There wasn't a single person anywhere on the docks, and the ships didn't seem to be ready to go anywhere.

A bright light flashed from inside the warehouse. It seemed like whatever Deathstroke was waiting for had arrived. As soon as the light flashed, the whole interior of the building turned pitch black. The only option he had was to get closer.

He dropped down the storage containers and, using the shadows to his advantage, made his way over to the warehouse. He couldn't hear anything coming from inside, and he still couldn't see into any of the windows. With no other options, he found a way up to the third story of the warehouse to an already open window. There was still no sound or light from inside the warehouse, but he decided to risk it and drop inside.

As soon as his boots touched down on the second floor's catwalk, a spotlight shone and blinded him, making him turn away. After a brief moment to regain his composure, he looked back towards the light and saw one figure standing in front of it while another was hovering besides.

"Nice of you to drop in, Batman." The standing figure said. It was Deathstroke.

Before Batman had a chance to respond, a screech echoed from the hovering figure that tore into Batman. It felt like a storm of bullets had pierced every fiber of his being, and he was knocked back against the wall. His muscles ached and he could hardly breathe.

"Careful, Banshee. We can't have him die on us just yet." Deathstroke said. He walked over and pulled Batman off the ground. "That comes later."

Deathstroke then threw Batman off the catwalk to the floor below, where he hit the ground with a sickening crack as he landed on his arm. Silver Banshee flew down and landed next to Batman.

"I was just making it easier for you to break him." She said.

Deathstroke leapt down from the catwalk. "I appreciate the sentiment, but that was never going to be a problem."

Silver Banshee grabbed Batman's face and made him stare into her white eyes. She began to speak, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. It was like his whole world had become muted. It was impossible for him to tell if it was from what she was saying, the pain, or a combination of both. His vision started to become blurry and he could just barely make out Deathstroke coming up behind Silver Banshee. He held something in his hand that glinted red and Silver Banshee held her hand out for it, not breaking eye contact with Batman as she did. She then pierced his chest with whatever it was and he felt an intense throbbing pain take over his head. Silver Banshee let go of him and stood up, stepping back behind Deathstroke.

Batman could barely bring himself to move at that point. Though he tried to remove whatever was now in his chest, it was impossible to find it since, somehow, he had lost all feeling in his fingers. He could sense Deathstroke speaking, but he couldn't make out a single word. It felt like the world around him was falling apart and twisting into nothingness.

His surroundings flashed between the blurry image of the warehouse and explosions of blue. Silver Banshee would intermittently appear to him as a bony figure in a black clergy robe with an odd, tall hat. As the switching became more frequent, Batman could no longer tell what parts were real.

The bony figure stepped closer to Batman in one vision, while Deathstroke approached him in the other. There was a clipboard in the figure's hand, and a gun in Deathstroke's.

And then he saw the blonde girl from the comic in the Sudden City. She was fighting someone, and with each blow came the explosion of blue light.

Then he was back to looking at Deathstroke, taking his gun and pointing it right at Batman’s chest. He felt the shot but didn’t see it. The bony figure was back, making marks on her clipboard. She looked down at Batman where he laid in pain and nearly dying. A darkness slid over the two of them, though behind her the blue explosions of light persisted, as did a growing splash of neon and other colored light explosions. Purple, gold, yellow, red, orange, black, white, green, a different blue, gray - repeating over and over again in different patterns alongside first shade of blue, and all in time with the sound of music that pumped down the alley they were in. Joining that was the sound of a cheering crowd.

An explosion of black energy came from behind the bony figure and then a streak of blue sped down the alley, crashing into the ground just beyond Batman and the figure, kicking up the ruined concrete as it hit. The figure turned to it, and Batman could just barely see the blonde girl standing up from the rubble. She didn’t look at the other two until the bony figure pushed a trash can over, sending a metallic echo through the alley that made the girl turn around. Once she did this, the bony figure disappeared, leaving Batman alone on the ground with the blonde girl. He saw her move towards him, but by that point, the pain was becoming too much to bear. He couldn’t move when she got over to him. She frantically began to wave someone over, and that’s when he lost all consciousness.

The Writer’s Guild sits together in the waiting room of Beverly Hills Hospital. The whole cast of fools is there, worried and waiting to see if Batman is dead or not. There’s me (Jamie, the blonde idiot girl, staring off past the wall and straight into the void probably), Muse (the skeleton boy who joined me in staring into the potential void behind all the walls), Ideas (the monkey boy with glasses, sitting on the lap of his best friend Muse, Googling everything on his phone to check how likely Batman is to survive), Realization (the red haired space lady leaning against the wall, fully aware that there’s no way in the world I would kill off Batman - my hero - after just meeting him), Ambition (the purple, eldritch abomination octopus lady who’s reading a magazine she’d never bother with in any other circumstance but she got bored so whatever), and Unexpectations (the giant, white, bat/cat hybrid who has his head in Ambition’s lap and is falling asleep while she strokes his head with her free hand).

Okay, so maybe only three of us actually show some sort of concern.

“So…” Muse says. “Batman, right?”

“Yeah…” I say. “Yeah, I know, right?”

“Batman.” He says. “Weird.”

“Yeah.”

The room is silent aside from Ambition flipping pages and Unexpectations’s hushed purring. I shift my gaze from the void to Unexpectations, taking note of how uncomfortable anyone else would be laid out across the wooden arms of six separate chairs like he is. It’s like he turned half-liquid with how he was contorted across them.

“Why is he so weird?” I ask. I know the answer, though. I mean I’m the one who made him and all these other fools up - I wrote and created Writer’s Guild after all. I’ve got to know. It’d be weird if I didn’t. I’m not entirely sure how I’d react if I created something I didn’t understand. I’d probably be scared, or very confused. One of those two.

“Don’t call my best friend weird.” Ambition says, not looking up from her magazine. She doesn’t sound threatening, but there’s just a hint of an edge in her voice.

“Do you think I’d have a problem with weird?” I ask, then gesture to all of my face. “Do you think this face would have a problem with weird?”

“You have a point.” She says. “You _would_ have to start liking weird things if you had to keep looking at _that_ in the mirror.”

“Shut.” I say.

“Ah yes, the most effective comeback - the unfinished sentence.”

“ _Shut_.”

A moment of silence again. Unexpectations shifts and slides himself more into Ambition’s lap to the point where she has to switch to scratching his belly instead. His head is now hanging off the arm of her chair and it looks even more uncomfortable than before. Ideas, meanwhile, tosses his phone onto the chair next to him and Muse.

“So back to Batman.” He says.

“Yeah,” I say. “Batman.”

“Why is he here?” Muse asks, looking at me.

“I don’t freaking know.” I say. I try to make sure it doesn’t come across in a mean way. I’m just tired and confused. I think we all are. “He’s just like...here. I’m certainly not complaining - unless he dies then I’ll definitely be complaining.”

Realization says, “Jamie you-”

“Gosh I’d be complaining so loud.”

Realization tries again, “Jamie-”

“Like it’d just be a constant complaint.”

“You-”

“Like the one chance I get to meet my all time hero dude and then he just dies.”

“Would you-”

“It’d seriously be the worst.”

“Jamie.”

“What a heck of a thing would that be.”

“You’re not going to kill off Batman.”

I look at Realization with absolute horror in my eyes. I’m certainly awake at that point. “I would _never_ kill Batman, you fool. I love Batman more than I probably should. I would _never_ do that.”

“I know that but that’s not what I was saying.” Realization says, slowly sliding down the wall to the floor. Her eyes are shut but she keeps talking. “I’m saying you wouldn’t kill off Batman in a writer sense. Like you wouldn’t write about him dying. Or like, write him off by making him dead. At least not right after you met him. Maybe if you...I don’t know...needed a really cinematic moment or something that was like...cinematic or something…”

She keeps rambling on about it all and how it’d be some character moment or something and that it’d probably be in the middle of a character arc to make it sadder. Or maybe not, after a character arc would make it more satisfying. Her eyes are still shut and she’s just sitting on the floor.

“You know there’s chairs.” Ideas says.

“Too late, I’m on the floor.” She says.

Silence.

“So are we waiting here the whole time or just until someone tells us he’s dead?” Muse asks.

“He’s not freaking dead.” Realization says, now fully curled up on the floor by the wall. “Just...chill.”

“He better not be dead.” I say. “I’d be so upset.”

“He’s not dead.” Realization says.

“You’re not a doctor.” I start to slouch down in my chair. Muse curls himself up into his seat after Ideas hops onto my stomach.

“Evil me’s a doctor.” Her voice is quieter.

“Evil you’s just named Doc. That doesn’t make her a doctor.” I say, shutting my eyes.

“It kind of does.”

“Whatever.”

There’s silence in the room again.


	4. Welcome to Stupid, Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman wakes up in a hospital in a city he doesn’t remember and with many questions.

When Bruce opens his eyes, the bright morning light streaking in through the hospital windows makes him wish he hadn’t. It’s too bright. Everything is too bright. He hates mornings.

He attempts to shield his eyes from the light with his hand. It’s at that point he realizes how little pain he feels. He had thought he'd feel something from his broken arm, bullet wound, and whatever else had been hurt by Deathstroke and Silver Banshee, but much to his surprise and confusion, nothing hurts aside from the sunlight shining in his eyes. 

He looks at his right arm he stopped the sunlight with. It’s not even in a cast. He twists his hand around and stretches. Nothing.  It’s like it was never broken in the first place.

He pulls down the collar of his hospital gown. There’s the usual faint scars, and he almost doesn't notice the circular one in the middle of his chest that came from Deathstroke's bullet.

If his arm and chest are already healed, how long had he slept?

He looks around. There’s a TV remote on the stand next to his bed, which no doubt went to the TV on the wall in front of him. Perhaps the news could give him some insight into what’s going on.

When he clicks the power button, the TV sparks to life and straight to an animated "Breaking News" title card.

_ That's...oddly convenient _ , he thinks.

A male voice booms from the TV.  "Breaking news with Channel 7. News so breaking, every television in Beverly Hills is broadcasting it. Trust us, that's how these things work here. TVs just turn on when we have something important to say so that everyone in Beverly Hills knows exactly what it is. And when we say everyone, we mean  _ everyone _ ."

Bruce raises an eyebrow while the announcer speaks.  _ And apparently convenience is not the only odd thing about this station.  _ He looks out the window again.  _ At least I know where I am now, but don’t remember there being this many skyscrapers in Beverly Hills. And something about this is not giving me a Californian vibe. _

He looks back to the TV, where a black woman and a white man sit side by side at a large desk in front of huge, dark blue, paneled windows.

"You’re watching Channel 7, Beverly Hills’s only local news station. That’s right, Beverly Hills - named after the song, and not the place. We’re two completely separate places and you’re not in the California one.” The woman says, making Bruce even more confused. “I'm Kayleigh Trent."

"And I'm Kirk Preston," the man says. "And you heard right. There is certainly a case of breaking news today."

"There certainly is." Kayleigh then slams both her hands down on the desk, making Kirk jump, and then she stars into the camera with wide eyes. "Batman is Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce’s heart leaps into his throat. How did they find out? Did someone tell them? Was it the hospital? Or maybe it was the blonde girl who brought him here, but he couldn’t figure out a single reason she would know either.

And then came the creeping realization from what the announcer said. That was just broadcasted everywhere. They somehow had the technology to turn all the TVs in the city on and everyone in the city would have heard that. Everyone knew.

"Of course," Kayleigh continues. "We all knew that already."

What.

"Whether it be in movies, TV shows, videogames, or comic books, we all knew that Bruce Wayne was Batman." She says.

"Then why'd you make such a racket over it, Kayleigh?" Kirk asks, keeping up the same, informative tone news anchors tend to have when on TV.

"Because it'd be funny if he was watching and that was the first thing he heard." She says, also using the same tone.

"And of course, if we're being written into the story, you know he's watching."

The two of them smile straight to the camera.

Bruce stays shocked and confused. Even more so, now.

"But moving on to the real breaking news," Kayleigh says. "What started out as just another weekly 'Punch Each Other to the Rhythm of Music So We Can Get Our Mutual Aggressions Out' session between the Writer's Guild and the Discursed has turned into an all out war between the two groups. Since both sides are notorious for only hurting each other, you have no reason to be worried about them interrupting your day aside from creating a few road issues that are always promptly fixed before they fly off again. We're going to blame Writer's Guild for the whole incident, by the way. It was probably the Discursed's fault for it turning into a war, but we're still going to blame Writer's Guild."

"We always do."

"Because we hate them." Kayleigh looks down at the papers on the desk, then back up to the camera. "Going back to Batman - because he's wildly more interesting than Writer's Guild fighting the Discursed again - he was discovered during that same fighting session, having been beaten and shot in an alleyway. It's unclear as to how he got there, but experts suggest he crossed over from another universe. The exact reasoning is unknown, because his universe seems much more interesting than ours, so it probably wasn't by choice."

"We were considering telling viewers to be on the lookout for his villains also crossing over, but then we remembered we already have one of those."

Again, Bruce's heart leaps in his chest. One of the Rogues is here, too?

"Speaking of DJ," Kayleigh says, looking down at her watch. "She's about to punch Jamie right through  our building."

The two anchors push their rolling chairs back from the desk right as a blue streak breaks through the window and crashes into the desk, ripping it in half. From the rubble, the blonde girl Bruce keeps seeing around stands up and looks around the station. Her eyes are wide and she fumbles for something in her blue, robe-like attire that's now covered in glass and dust. The few cuts on her arms and face from the glass hardly have the chance to bleed before they heal up.

"I'm so so so sorry I'm so sorry I'll be out in a second I'm so sorry." She pulls out what looks like a car fob and points it at the desk. Kayleigh and Kirk watch with crossed arms and furrowed brows as a blue light emits from the fob and, like magic, completely undoes the damage on the desk. She then runs past the desk and jumps out the window, hovering right outside while she uses the fob on the glass. The shards float up and fuse together in the frame. During this, she looks over her shoulder, though the camera doesn't catch who it is. "DJ! Stop punching me into Channel 7! They already hate me enough."

A faint voice replies with: “That’s why I keep doing it!”

After the glass is fixed, the girl is seen being tackled in the air and flown off by a blurry figure. Whoever it was moved too fast for the camera to get a clear shot of. Kayleigh and Kirk pull their chairs back up to the desk. It looks brand new.

"But we could always hate them more." Kayleigh looks to the camera. "Coming up next: a Writer's Guild proof material? A recent discovery may be the answer to keeping them from crashing through our buildings every five minutes."

Bruce turns off the TV. There’s so much information to process. Too much information.

“Confused, Mr. Wayne?” A voice says. Bruce’s head snaps towards the doorway. A black woman with her curly hair pulled back stands there. She’s dressed in white scrubs with blue trim and holding a plastic clipboard.

Bruce laughs and rubs the back of his neck. Hearing her say his name makes him uncomfortable. She knows who he is. Everyone knows. “A little.”

"Well, my name is Katerina Trent and I'm your nurse. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have." She says. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just some answers would be nice right now."

She laughs. "I can certainly do that."

"So how long was I asleep?"

"Three days."

Bruce pauses and looks back to his arm. "Only three days?"

"Yeah. The Writer's Guild called one of their friends in who can heal people like that." On the word 'that', she snaps her fingers. "We had managed to stabilize you, but Jamie was still nervous about it. Plus there was some damage done to you that even we couldn't explain. We figured it was probably magic, so we decided to fight magic with magic."

That was definitely whatever Silver Banshee had done to him.

"And I'm in Beverly Hills? But not the California one."

"Yep. Named after the Weezer song. Can’t remember what it used to be called. It got changed so fast. I bet no one would have any objections if you proposed that we should start calling it Gotham, though. This city loves it some Batman.” She leans against the door frame. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything, Mr. Wayne?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He stretches out his arm in front of him again. When he speaks, it’s practically a whisper. “So everyone knows?”

She nods. “Everyone. You’re a comic book character in this universe amongst a barrage of other mediums. You’re pretty popular.”

“No kidding?”

“Nope.” She pulls a comic book from off her clipboard and steps over to hand it to him. “See for yourself.”

He takes the comic book and looks at it. Sure enough, he’s right there on the cover with the words ‘BATMAN’ in a bold font across the top. He’s perched on a building’s ledge with the Bat Signal lighting up the clouds behind him.

“It’s odd.” He says, flipping through the pages. It’s mostly him fighting the Joker. Must not have been up to date with how everything currently is in his universe. It does look familiar though, but he can’t recall the exact situation it was retelling. In fact, he doesn’t remember the instance at all. Either his memories of fighting the Joker were all blending together, or the events in the comic book never happened. But that wouldn’t make sense. The comic of this universe was right when he read it in the Sudden City (which must have been Beverly Hills now that he thought about it), so why wouldn’t this one be?

“I bet it is.” Katerina says.

“Well, in my universe, your universe was a comic book.”

“Oh good, then you’ve already seen it.”

Bruce looks at her. “Seen what?”

Katerina takes another comic book from her clipboard, but this one is much thicker. “We’re a comic book in our universe, too.”

For a moment, Bruce pauses, but then accepts the new comic book. It’s the same one he saw in the Sudden City, but with words on it and in it. The same group is there on the cover, flying across the cover looking happy as can be with the words ‘WRITER’S GUILD’ printed at the top. At the bottom is the name ‘Jamie Foutch’.

“I don’t understand.” He says, opening the comic to a random page where the Guild is fighting a giant shadow. It fills Bruce with a sense of dread he can’t understand, so he flips through to a different page. It’s the blonde girl and she’s sitting on top of a T-rex in the middle of a field. The rest of the group is standing in the grass. He flips through again and finds a page detailing the instance of the blonde girl being hurled into the news station like he saw earlier. “How can you have this?”

“Everyone’s got one. It makes keeping up with the times a lot easier than watching the news.” Katerina says.

“But, how does it know what’s going on? How does it show you what’s happening?” He looks at her. She raises an eyebrow.

“Usually people realize it as soon as they step foot into the universe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everything’s fiction.” She waits for a response, but Bruce gives none. “We’re not real. Jamie made us up. She’s writing this all in a Google Doc on her laptop.”

Bruce feels dizzy. “I don’t understand.”

“It’ll probably take a couple days to wrap your head around. For most other people it’s instant, but I don’t think it’s going to be for you. I’d suggest just reading the comic for now. It should clear up some questions you have.”

A white woman with her blonde hair up in a bun enters the room and taps Katerina on the shoulder. Katerina turns to her. 

“Hobart’s here to pick up Mr. Wayne.” The woman says.

“Tell him we’ll be down in a second, Diane.” Katerina says.

Diane points behind her. “He actually came up.”

Katerina looks behind her and Bruce looks over as well. An older man with bright white hair stands in the hospital room’s doorway. He’s dressed in a clean, black suit and holds himself up tall, but has a kind smile. A black garment bag hangs limp across his left arm and he holds a black shoebox in his left hand.

“Hello Hobart.” Katerina says, extending her hand to him. He takes it in his free hand and smiles even more. “I didn’t expect you to come all the way up here.”

“I thought I should escort Mr. Wayne myself.” Hobart says, gesturing to Bruce after shaking Katerina’s hand. “If he’s going to be staying with the Guild while he’s here, I wanted to make sure he got to know me before the others completely overwhelm him.” The three of them laugh, but Bruce remains confused. Hobart turns to him, still smiling. “I’m Hobart Hobbert. I’m the butler of the Writer’s Guild and chauffeur whenever they don’t feel like flying. Which has been awhile, honestly. I think there were cobwebs on the wheels, too.”

“Well, now you’ve got the perfect opportunity to use it again.” Diane says.

Hobart looks down at the garment bag on his arm. “Oh, I brought this for you, Mr. Wayne. I’m still in the process of fixing your Bat suit. I believe you're entering our universe did a lot more damage to it than I first thought. It’s not just a simple undoing like how the Guild solves all their property damage problems. But I’ll fix it eventually. I also figured you didn’t want to walk out of the hospital in it anyway.”

“Thank you.” Bruce says as Hobart hands him the garment bag. It probably won’t fit perfect, but the gesture is kind enough.

The nurses and Hobart leave the room, shutting the door behind them so that Bruce could change. He opened the garment bag to reveal a gray suit. But something about the suit gave off an air of quality even Bruce had never experienced before.. They were just clothes, they weren’t going to help him fight criminals. But this suit almost shone with expensive tastes and craftsmanship.

It’s a bit weird to him.

Of course, it gets weirder once he puts the suit on and finds it fits perfectly. It’s not even a little off. It’s the right measurements and everything. So are the shoes. He feels like he should take it off from how odd the experience is, but something compels him to keep it on. Ego? Style? Or perhaps it’s just the realization that he has nothing else to wear out of the hospital. In any case, the suit and shoes stay on.

He leaves the room, taking the comics with him. As he and Hobart head towards the elevator, he hands back the empty garment bag and shoebox.

“So how’d you get this suit measurements so right?” Bruce asks.

Hobart shakes his head. “You’ll learn quickly not to question things like that. It makes everything more complicated. If you make specifications on things like clothes and the amount of money you have, then there’s a limit you have to work off. If you never say what size clothes you wear, everything will fit perfectly. If you never say how much money you have, you never have to worry about running out.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.” Bruce laughs.

“It does in fiction.”

Bruce nods, remembering what Katerina said earlier. “Right. Fiction.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it eventually.” Hobart says as they step into the elevator. “Or you won’t. There’s no reason you have to get used to it. Most of the time, the meta nature of the universe is simply the means to fulfil a joke. You only really need to address it in times like that or for story reasons. Otherwise, you can just exist without thinking about it. Or you can exploit it, like in the money or clothes instances. It’s all as real as you need it to be.”

“How will I know when to think about it? Or for story reasons?”

Hobart shrugs. “You just...know.”

The doors of the elevator shut and it begins it’s descent. Bruce looks over to where the elevator buttons should be, except he finds there aren’t any.

“Why aren’t there any elevator buttons?” He asks.

“The elevator knows which floor we want. There’s no purpose for them any more.”

“Is that another exploit through the fiction of the universe?”

“No. It was a necessary change.”

Bruce raises and eyebrow and leans against the elevator wall with his arms crossed. “What do you mean?”

Hobart sighs and looks at his feet. “There’s a way to cross universes using elevators, and it had been used before.But that decision made for some significant changes in how all the universes work. It was also extremely dangerous to the person crossing universes and to everyone in the universe they were travelling to.”

“How so?”

Hobart says nothing for a bit and doesn’t look up from the floor. “It’s not wise to speak of it in an elevator. I believe I might have already said too much for the time being.”

Bruce nods, though isn’t satisfied. It’s certainly something to ask about later.

The elevator dings as they reach the ground floor. Hobart leads Bruce out of the hospital to a black SUV. He opens the back door for Bruce, who gets inside. Then he gets in the driver's seat, setting the garment bag and shoe box next to him on the seat. They drive off from the hospital while Bruce stares out the window to watch this new city pass by. It's clean and shiny - a lot like Metropolis the more Bruce thinks about it. And he feels the same way about this city that he does about Metropolis.

He'd rather be in Gotham.

As he stares out the window, he sees streaks of light flying around and crashing into each other. Blue fighting black, purple fighting white, gold fighting green, yellow fighting an icy blue, and orange fighting gray. Alongside them is a red streak jumping in between the different fights. Upon seeing this, he feels an urge rise within him to help them.

“Don’t worry about them, Mr. Wayne.” Hobart says from the front. “It’s just the Guild getting their collective butts handed to them by the Discursed on a silver platter just like every other battle. They’ll be done in about two hours or so and then be back at the Mansion. It should give you enough time to read through a good portion of the comic. Plus you don’t even have your Bat suit, though it would be funny to see a normal businessman attempt to catch up to a bunch of flying idiots and the Guild.”

Bruce continues to stare out the window as they drive on. The urge doesn’t go away.

 

“I freaking hate everything right now.” I say, walking with the rest of the Writer’s Guild to the Mansion and then bang my head on the wood of the front door. “Like DJ’s being a total butt about the whole thing. Like I’m sorry we had to cut the battle short on Monday because  _ Batman was dying _ . Sorry that encroached up your fight session or whatever. Dumb stupid idiot.”

“Stop blocking the door, I’m tired and I want to sit down.” Ambition says. “You can complain about her inside as much as you can complain about her out here.”

“Fiiiiiine.” I pull the door open and stomp in. I stare at my feet as I make a sharp left turn into the sitting room/kitchen/living room. As I pass one of the chairs, I pull off its throw pillow, slam it onto my face, fall face down on the floor and then scream into the pillow. I feel the Guild standing around me but I don’t care.

“You sure you wanna do that?” Realization asks. I continue to scream. It’s muffled and slowly dying out, but it’s still a scream.

“I’m so mad.” I say. This, too, is muffled.

Muse kneels down on his hands and knees next to me and whispers in my ear. “Dude, no you don’t get it. You should probably stop screaming.”

“No.” However, I don’t scream anymore. I’m too tired. I can no longer scream. I just want to sleep. Fighting the Discursed takes a lot out of all of us.

Ambition kicks my left thigh. “Hey dummy, get up. You need to see something.”

“The only thing I want to see is nothing because I want to sleep.” I curl my arms around the pillow and press it harder to my face.

“No...no you want to get up.” Ambition grabs me by the hood of my blue power outfit and pulls me off the floor and into a kneeling position.

“What do you want from me?” I stare up at her and her dumb grin.

She pushes my head down to look forward. “It’s more about what you want.”

“That’s not a fun way to say things.” I say as she turns my head towards the white living room couches. “Why are you pointing me towards the oooooooo that’s Batman.”

Yes.

Yes that’s a Batman, alright.

That is indeed Bruce Wayne sitting on my couch.

A whole Batman.

A whole Batman on my couch.

In my mansion.

It’s more likely than I’d think.

And what’s that? He’s reading the comic?

The comic?

You know, the comic?

The comic about me being a fool amongst other, much better fools?

The comic of my self insert who is me in a big dumb house in a big dumb group in a big dumb city where I am dumb and a fool?

Yes!

The comic!

And it looks like he got rather far!

He must now understand the character that is me. And the fool I am. Batman knows that, yes, I am a fool, but instead of experiencing it in real time like the good Lord intended, he saw it immortalized in the self insert, egotistical mess that is in fact, my comic.

“Goodbye friends,” I say, getting off the floor without breaking eye contact with the man who is the Bat who looks very confused but ever so slightly amused while I start backing up towards the foyer I had just came in through. “I have to go walk into the ocean and die now.”

Realization grabs me right as I make a full 180 in order to sprint away and escape my embarrassment faster. “Stop that.”

“No.” I say, leaning forward, hoping that my weight will make her drop me. This does cause me to feel like I’m choking since she’s holding me up by the hood which circles my neck. 

“Face your hero, Jamie.” She says.

“You can’t make me.”

“Yes I can.” She pulls me back into the room and spins me around, making sure to catch me before I fall over. Then she points me towards Batman and grabs my chin so that she can force my head towards him.

“Joke’s on you, Rea. You can’t control my eyes.” I say.

“You wanna bet?”

“Don’t threaten my eyes I need them to see.”

“Look with your special eyes!” She says. I give in and look at Batman, yet I’m still fighting Realization as she forces my face towards him. I look ridiculous with my stupid, fearfully wide eyes and my frozen, stubborn stance as I try to resist her. 

He looks great.

Of course he does.

He’s Batman.

He’s amazing.

I feel her push against me, trying to move me towards him. “Now say hello.”

“I can’t.” I dig my heels into the floor and keep awkward, prolonged eye contact with Batman or Bruce or whatever I should be calling him. At least it seems like he’s mildly enjoying this. I mean, I think he’s enjoying it. He’s not smiling or anything. He’s just sitting there relaxed on the couch being perfect because he’s perfect and I love him.

“Yes you can.” She pushes harder against my back, but my stubborn heels are too much for her. 

I have the power.

The power of being a stubborn fool.

“Ambition, help me.” She says.

“Oh no. I’m enjoying watching you squirm and her have a mini freak out. I’m not going to interfere with this.” Ambition says with a very, very wide smile.

“Muse!” Realization says, turning to my lovely skeleton boy who is Muse. Yes. My boy.

“I can’t. She just called me her boy.” Muse says. “These are the rules.”

“Don’t use the non-dialogue text against me!” She says.

“He will use whatever he pleases! My boy’s on my side!” I say, now looking away from Batman because now it’s been too long and too awkward and I can’t believe I was staring at him for so long what’s wrong with me. I shift my gaze to Hobart, who’s been fixing snacks in the kitchen this whole time and just being a wonderful butler in general. “Hi, Hobart.”

“Good afternoon, Jamie.” He says, smiling as he cuts up one of those sausage rolls you use on crackers sometimes. “How is your day going?”

“I mean...I’ll be honest, it’s quite a day.” I say. I feel Realization relax a bit on her push against me. She ends up just stopping and resting her head on my shoulder. Either she’s still tired from the fight earlier or she decided her efforts to move a stubborn fool like me were fruitless. Probably both. We just sort of end up...leaning on each other and propping each other up.

“I bet it has been.” Hobart says. “How did your fight with the Discursed go?”

“Not bad. I punched DJ through the timeline and back into her’s once. That was fun. I usually have to use my clock sword for that.” I pause. “Holy crap, I just realized that makes sense.”

“What does?” Ideas asks from where he hangs off Muse’s shoulder.

I slap my hand to my forehead. “I’m using my sword that’s shaped like a freaking clock hand to rip a hole through time so we can go to and from other timelines.” I throw my hands up to the ceiling. “Why have I never noticed this before?”

When I threw my hands up, Realization took her chin off my shoulder. I had a brief moment to say that last line before I fell to the ground now that my once source of stability was gone. And of course I land with a thud. It’s not even a graceful land. It’s just straight on my back. I even flailed my arms.

And all in front of Batman.

I am a disgrace to humanity everywhere.

It doesn’t help that at this point Realization drags me across the floor towards the couches and closer to Batman who I can no longer even think of looking in the face.

“Please don’t.” I ask. It’s almost a whisper. I don’t even think I can talk in front of him any more. Why is this how things happen. Why.

“Ambition, come sit next to Jamie.” Realization says, picking me up and placing me on the loveseat that’s closest to the kitchen and to the right of Batman. I sit limp and staring at the floor. I can’t freaking do this. Ambition, still smiling and enjoying every moment of this, walks over and plops down next to me. Realization points to Muse and Ideas, then to the loveseat directly across from us in this ocean of a living room that I am drowning in. “Muse, Ideas, sit there. I’ll sit next to you two because Ideas is probably going to sit on one of us anyway-”

“Probably Muse today.” Ideas says as Muse leaps into the loveseat with Ideas in his arms like a football. Muse sprawls fully across the loveseat with his legs and arms everywhere. Realization looks at him, then sits down directly where his stomach would have been in his body if he wasn’t a skeleton. Ideas sits on his chest.

“Is this how I die.” Muse mutters. 

Ideas places a tiny monkey finger on Muse’s teeth to shush him since he doesn’t have lips. “Yes.”

“It’s been an honor.” He says, then goes limp. There’s a moment of silence, then the two of them giggle.

“Unexpectations,” Realization says. Unexpectations looks at her with his ears perked up. “You can sit wherever you want - not there!”

Everyone turns to look towards the kitchen where Unexpectations is perched on the counter like a caveman. Hobart is still preparing snacks even with him crouched there. Unexpectations has a big grin across his face and doesn’t move.

“Get down,” Ambition laughs. Unexpectations somehow manages to basically slither down to the floor, then slides up onto the back of the loveseat Ambition and I are sitting on. I swear he’s made of liquid.

There’s a couple moments of silence for all of us to relax and for me to suffocate in my embarrassment. Realization looks at Bruceman. I mean Batman. Maybe I should just call him Bruce. It feels weird.

“Do you have any specific questions you want to ask us right now?” Realization asks.

Hobart comes over and sets the plate of cheeses, sausage, and crackers on the coffee table. I stare at the plate as Muse, Ideas, and Ambition all leap for the food. I want some, but I’m too embarrassed. I can’t let Batman know I eat food.

Why is that embarrassing?

“Just a couple. I figure the comic could answer a lot.” Bruce asks. He sits with his arms folded across his chest. I bet he doesn’t want to be here. I don’t blame him. I don’t want to be here either. Except that’s because I’m embarrassed. “But first I want to know: do you know why I’m here?”

Muse shrugs as he shoves a whole cracker topped with cheese and sausage into his mouth. It’s so weird to watch him eat. The inside of his mouth is just a shadowy void, so you can’t even see him eating. You can tell, but you can’t see it. 

“Don’t know.” He says. “Usually people from other places come out of the ocean. You came from an alley. I think that makes you special or something.”

Bruce looks at him. “From the ocean?”

“Yeah. The ocean. We’ve had at least-” Muse stops and counts on his bony fingers. “-three I think. Have there been more?” He looks at me. I shrug but stay silent. “I think there’s been more. All I really remember is the ones who live with us now. If you skip to the beginning of Season Two, the first arc is called, ‘The ‘Hello Everyone This Is Ewan’ Arc’, and that guy in it is one of the first cases of people coming out of the ocean and then just living here.”

“There’s more people here?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah, they live in the basement.”

“You’re not staying in the basement, though.” Realization says, picking up a cracker from the plate. “Did Hobart show you your room yet?”

“No, not yet.” Bruce says.

“I decided to wait for that,” Hobart says from the kitchen while he cleans everything up. “I thought that you, Rea, would do a better job at explaining where everything is, and that it would give Jamie a chance to get over her embarrassment while you showed him around. Perhaps she could finally eat something, too.”

I put my face in my hands and slide further down in the seat. I’m amazed that I haven’t slid off completely yet. I appreciate Hobart’s forethought, though, I just wish he hadn’t said it out loud.

“Would you like me to show you around now?” Realization asks.

This feels patronizing. I feel patronized. Don’t patronize me, Rea.

“Sure.” Bruce says.

I keep my hands on my face as I hear Realization and Bruce head out of the room and into the rest of the house. I don’t even budge when Muse and Ideas jump over to the loveseat I’m on and sit down, squishing themselves between me and Ambition. I still don’t move when Unexpectations slides off the back of the loveseat and puts his soft and fluffy head on my lap.

Okay, that was a lie. I can’t resist that fluffy boy. I have to scratch his face. And of course he immediately purrs and looks so happy. Such a good boy.

“You need to chill.” Muse says.

“I can’t.” I say, putting my head on his very bony shoulder. It’s just like...straight in my temple. Such a pointy boy.

“Maybe you can just follow the propinquity theory without having to talk to him. Just like, sit in the same room as him. Let us talk to him instead or something. That might get you to calm down.” Ideas says. He’s looking at me with so much concern. He wants to help so bad. Such a kind boy.

“Or you could just...die.” Ambition says with a laugh while she stretches in her seat. Such a salty girl.

“Yeah let’s do that.” I say, also with a laugh. There’s no way I would ever do that. I can’t die, I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow. “Maybe I can just run away for a while. Or straight up walk into the ocean and just keep walking forever and ever until I reach a trench that’s so deep I never get out and then become one with the void.”

“That sounds cool. Can I come?” Muse asks.

“Of course. We can have an ocean party in the void together.” I say.

We sit together, not saying anything for a while. Unexpectations’s purrs and Hobart cleaning up are the only sounds. Every once in awhile we can hear Realization walking around upstairs - though it’s next to impossible to hear Bruce. How can such a big, strong dude walk so quietly? I’m like...half his size and you can hear me on the other side of the house even if I’m trying to be stealthy. I have such loud feet.

“But like…” I start. Everyone looks at me. “Batman, though.”

“Right?” Muse says.


	5. The Authorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathode and the Eye Brothers get alerts of a mysterious man that snuck his way into the Pseudo Universe.

Cathode was over the virus. After it shut her down originally, it left her system. Granted, she didn’t power back on for a while or return right back to proper functionality immediately afterwards. It left her feeling scrambled.

She took a long break from the Pseudo Universe, instead spending her time going after Overhaul in the 404 Zones. With help from Salem and some other Guides, she managed to contain his influence on the Zones, and he hasn’t yet spread any further than the dozens of Zones he already controlled. Since her return, she hasn’t considered going back to the Pseudo Universe for any reason - though she heard that a very...pressing issue had been resolved. Even so, she hasn’t visited.

Tonight she’s staying with Salem. She’s always felt odd when ‘sleeping’ in a bed. The back of her TV head kept her from lying down comfortably, and she doesn’t sleep anyway. Sure, she could power herself off, but she always felt vulnerable like that. She can’t sense anything going on in the different universes or what’s even going on in the room around her. And it’s not like she needs sleep. She’s a robot whose energy comes from the universe around her, not from a good night’s rest.

At least Salem was kind enough to figure out the solution to one of those problems. When she told him how awkward it was for her to lie on her back, he add dozens more pillows so she could prop her head up and get her body to actually touch down on the bed. It certainly felt more natural, but still a bit odd. Maybe it was due to the fact that she noticed how strange it would look to walk in on such a scene. A lady with a TV for a head, practically sitting up in a four post canopy bed looking like a sentry with random images sometimes flashing across her screen while a barely clothed, three eyed man with purple hair clung desperately to her while he slept. It’d probably be quite unnerving, she thinks.

She sits in the bed, stroking Salem’s hair while he sleeps, arms and legs wrapped around her. It’s not a bother to her to stay awake and think while waiting for him to finish sleeping. Sometimes she watches his dreams - he knows this and doesn’t mind. Since she can’t dream herself, he’s happy to share his. But he hasn’t yet begun to dream, so Cathode sits, just feeling him breathe.

He only fell asleep a little while ago. They spent the hour before talking while he traced a finger across her body, searching for where the metal plates that formed her endoskeleton under the latex ‘skin’ met. He did that a lot. Something about her construction fascinated him. She always assumes that it’s because of how incompatible their bodies are. Or maybe it’s just because she’s a robot. He must want to understand how she works. But then again, he could just like to do it. Anytime she’s around him he seems to crave any sort of touch. Especially from her.

Of course, touch is all she can do.

There’s a twinge in the back of her head and her body gives off a small jolt. Salem hardly stirs from this, though does moreso when Cathode fully sits up. He stretches and looks up at her through half shut eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. Cathode doesn’t reply and instead stares forward. Salem sits up next to her, leaning over to get a glimpse of her screen. No images yet, but he can tell she’s thinking. “Was it just another twitch?”

She doesn’t move or turn. “I didn’t intend to wake you up.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Salem says, rubbing a hand on her back. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Cathode looks down at the white blanket pulled over her legs. It’s bathed in a warm pink glow just like everything else. The blanket has no use to her - she never gets cold. It’s just an instinct to pull it on.

Another little twinge goes through her and the fingers on her left hand contract into a claw for a moment. Salem takes his free hand and puts it on hers, then rests his head on her shoulder. The electricity streams that flow between the discs of her arms brush up against his bare chest, but he’s always said it never bothered him.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he had said in the past. “It kind of feels nice actually. Like a weird sort of hum in my chest. Like when you listen to loud music but put your hands over your ears, so all you can feel is the sound flowing through you.”

His hand on her back slides down it to her waist. Her screen flicks on while she watches the electricity dancing across his chest, looking for somewhere to ground itself. Salem looks at her screen while she does, watching a montage of images from romance movies flash by, and it makes him smile. It’s involuntary, he can tell. Her most intense thought processes will flick on like a slideshow when she’s thinking this hard. Most of the time he has to concentrate to interpret what it means, but he’s seen this one before. He’s seen it a lot lately.

He moves to straddle her legs and takes her head in his hands, still smiling. Her screen cuts out and they’re just left staring at each other for a moment.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too.” She says. Her voice is the same robotic, stiltedness as normal, but Salem can feel a warmth to it.

He kisses her screen and then presses his forehead to it. He can feel another twinge go through her that makes her head twitch ever so slightly.

"Are you sure everything’s okay? You usually don’t have this many surges at night.” He says. Her screen lights up again, but it’s gone back to the images he has to interpret. It’s some strong looking guy he’s never seen, that blonde girl Cathode thinks about sometimes (her name escapes him at the moment), that one city she visits sometimes in the Pseudo Universe, back to the guy, blonde girl, guy, a couple different colors, guy, girl, city, colors...then it shuts off.

“Pseudo Universe stuff?” Salem asks with a sigh, dropping his hands from her head. She has to leave again.

“Someone got over.” She says. She doesn’t make a move. Usually he’d have to roll off to the side by this point, then she’d jump out of bed and disappear. But she’s almost frozen in place now.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone got over.”

He blinks. His mind runs through the different hints to what in the world she could be talking about. The images, where ‘over’ refers to, the jobs of a Guide (that was her big priority after all).

“Did someone come over from the Pseudo Universe? Like to a 404 Zone?” He asks. “I’m sure another Guide will help them.”

“No...no no no someone got to the Pseudo Universe.” She starts to pull the blanket from her legs and Salem gets off her lap. In the middle of her getting out of the bed, she pauses at the edge with her legs swung over.

“Wait, like from the 404 Zones? Someone came from there? Not another Guide or something?”

“No. He’s not from the Zones. He’s from somewhere...further.”

That’s got to be wrong. Nobody can come over from further right than the Zones. The Alpha Zone is the ultimate barrier from any universes further right. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could-?”

“I don’t know. I have to go.” She stands up and then, with a spark of light, disappears. Salem stares at the empty space where she used to be, then sighs. He’s alone again.

 _Honestly, I should be used to this by now,_ he thinks before getting under the covers again and trying to sleep.

 

Beverly Hills is certainly an inviting city at night. Warm lighting, tons of people going off to have some fun, just the right amount of cars milling about - a perfect kind of night to just do whatever.

Unfortunately for the Kitt brothers, they’ve got work tonight.

The Kitt brothers - Toonie, Moonie, and Malone. Toonie’s the oldest and Malone’s the youngest, making Moonie the middle child. All rather similar looking with their skin like hard, pure black plastic, their matching brown suits and hats, and each with a sea green eye on their otherwise featureless face. Toonie’s sits in the middle, Moonie’s off to the right, and Malone’s on the left. Such a striking feature was what gave them their collective nickname of the Eye Brothers - but they usually only hear that name when on the job.

An odd job to most, too. They work for Miss Marla Ritz, proprietor of the Swing Club. Quite the hangout for anyone from the left of the Pseudo Universe. No worries of the ongoing plots or conflicts that plague their existence, and no worries about timeline constraints. People from the year 1153 can hang out with people from 2094 without a second thought. Good people, good music, good food, just a good atmosphere all around in a timeless setting inspired by speakeasies, swing, and jazz music. Sometimes the folks even get lucky with a temporary visa that lets them hang out in the city of Beverly Hills for a while.

But when that visa runs out, or someone gets out into the city without one, that’s when the Eye Brothers are called in. Some people just don’t realize their visa’s up - those people get carted back to the Swing Club no hassle. Otherwise, force is the only option. Can’t let any of them start getting the idea it’s fine to go out unauthorized and just get some kind of slap on the wrist in return. No, it’s much more than a slap from the Eye Brothers. Can’t let them run around like that. It’s far too dangerous for the city.

Toonie, Moonie, and Malone cruise through the city in a black car straight from the 1940s, driving a bit faster than recommended, but no one would tell them not to. Not even the cops. It’s impossible to hit someone in this city or get in an accident. Too safe for that. Not even any crime in this city. Or at least, not if they catch the reckless stragglers from the left universes in time.

“He ain’t that special lookin’.” Malone says, looking over the ‘WANTED’ poster Miss Marla gave them. Some strong, clean shaven man in a business suit. Probably rich. Looks boring. “If this is some new character of Jamie’s then she’s started to go bland on the designs. Usually the men’ve got a tendency to stand out more look wise.”

“I don’t know, she’s never been too good with any of her male characters.” Moonie says from the passenger seat upfront. He reaches back and takes the poster from Malone. “Maybe he’s the one fella in a story full of dames.”

“If he is I feel sorry for all those girls.” Malone says. “Looks like a high hat to me.”

“That might just be the picture. You can’t know a man just by his mugshot.”

Toonie, in the driver’s seat, takes a sharp left at the next intersection that would’ve flipped most other cars if someone else had tried it. Moonie and Malone sway with the car, but don’t react otherwise.

“Don’t know why he’s at the Guild’s house.” Moonie says, looking down further on the poster to the ‘Last Know Whereabouts’ section. Maybe he’s one of Jamie’s favorites. Anybody she says is good to go gets a free visa for however long she decides or until she’s sick of them. Could be one of those.

“Might ‘a broken in.” Toonie says. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, but they were outta town that week.” Malone says, leaning back in the backseat and staring out the window. “I just saw ‘em on the news this morning. So they ain’t left for anything yet.”

“Might ‘a left for an emergency. Maybe somethin’ happened over in Fantasyland. You never know with them.” Toonie says.

“Yeah.”

The three drive in silence for a little while before Toonie starts to fiddle with the radio.  A woman’s smoky voice came on, crooning to soft, slow music. It’s straight from the Swing Club, that’s for sure. The three of them could recognize Mary Gin’s voice anywhere. It was nice of Miss Marla to set up a couple hours at night with the radio station to let the Swing Club’s music grace the airwaves.

“Ain’t no better singer in Beverly Hills.” Moonie says.

Malone tapped Moonie’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Don’t let anybody on Electric Avenue hear you talk like that. They’ll have your head.”

“Half the folks on the Avenue don’t know what good music even is.” Moonie says. “I’ll take jazz and swing over their rock and electronica any day.”

“You know Mary Gin’s been stuck on you for a long while now, Moonie?” Toonie asks, taking another sharp turn.

“I know,” Moonie says, holding onto the car roof to keep from falling over. “She’s a vamp, it ain’t hard to tell.”

“Moonie’s too busy pining after that Violet Orchid waitress. What’s her name again?” Malone asks.

“Dena Lisa. An air tight lady with one near flawless brain. Genius of a girl. You remember when we were first tryin’ to track down Ohpyzyte when he threw that little city wide tantrum? Dena’s the one who managed to point us in the right direction before he did anything too harsh.” Moonie says.

“I thought I told you to stop going into the Violet Orchid.” Toonie gives Moonie a quick side glance while he drives.

“You did, but I won’t listen. It may be expensive but it’s worth it to talk to her for even a couple minutes.”

“You were in there for near two hours last time, Moonie.” Malone says.

Moonie looks out the window and his voice starts to get a wistful-like edge. “She got off early and stopped by my table. Can’t help it if she’s the best conversationalist I’ve ever met. She knows just enough about everything to keep anyone who hears her interested. We could have kept going until they kicked us out if those barbaric idiots hadn’t gotten out to the city again.”

“That’s where you were?” Toonie barks. “Do you know how hard it is to wrangle in Brastin and Maraasdam when there’s just two of us? Those two are absolute animals.”

“Ain’t my fault I got lost that big brain of hers.”

“Ain’t her fault you get lost so easy.”

Toonie finally slows the car down when they come up to a stoplight. Right as the car slides to a stop, there’s a _bang_ on the roof. The brothers look up when it sounds, then back ahead when whoever landed on the car steps down onto the front.

“Well that’s a familiar heel.” Malone says.

Toonie sticks his head out the window. Cathode turns and looks at him from where she stands on the hood of the car. “Did you dent my car?”

Cathode glances at the roof she was just on. “No.”

“Where are you headed, sweetheart?” Moonie asks, sticking his head out the other window.

“Writer’s Guild mansion.” She says, now looking at him.

“Hop in. We’re headed there too.” Moonie says.

Cathode jumps down to the street and steps around to the back door, which Malone pushes open for her. She steps in as he slides over to the far side of the car.

“Whatcha headed to the Guild’s for?” Malone asks as the car starts to move again.

“Someone got over from the right universes.” She says.

“No kiddin’. We’re headed over there ‘cause someone’s over there from the left.” Malone says. He taps Moonie’s shoulder. “Hey, show her the picture.”

Moonie hands the ‘WANTED’ poster back to Cathode who takes it from him. She stares for a while, not saying anything.

“Something wrong?” Moonie asks, watching her. Her screen flashes on with images the boys can’t easily pick up. They move too quick to get a read on.

“We’re going after the same person.” She says.

Toonie slams the breaks on the car and everyone flies forward. Moonie even bangs his head on the dashboard.

“Toonie! What was that for?” Moonie asks. Toonie doesn’t respond. Instead, he stares forward. Moonie follows his gaze, where a woman stands inches from the car, wide eyed and terrified.

It’s impossible to hit someone in this city.

But for a second, it certainly seemed likely.

 

Getting used to the Guild was surprisingly easy for Bruce. A bunch of high energy people with seemingly no cares in the world and practically no regard for their own safety as they ran about was...familiar to him. It seems that he has gotten more used to the Joker’s personality than he believed.

The thought of it makes him cringe.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. It took all evening before I properly said a word to him. Though Realization had answered a lot of his basic questions, he knew that as the writer of the story, I’d know the most and be the most direct person to ask. Of course, when he asked me the first question I was too stunned to answer. He couldn’t figure out why I was still so awestruck - it had been hours since we had first…’met’...with me screaming on the floor and him just happening to be in the same room. But I still couldn’t really talk to him yet. Or at least, not until Ambition jabbed me in the back and I blurted out the answer that, yes, I did make myself the main character of a story I made up. With that one sentence out of the way, I got a little comfortable with at least speaking to him.

“Nothing.” He says.

Bruce and the Guild all sit out on the back patio where we set up a table and chairs in order to eat dinner outside on the patio.  It was nice to have watched the sun set over the ocean while everyone ate, and even the lights streaming out from the windows around us keeping us from total darkness is rather pleasant.

“I have another question.” Bruce says.

“I don’t blame you.” I say.

“How did your city end up in my universe?” He asks. The Guild stares at him.

“What?” Ambition asks from the far end of the table.

Bruce goes onto explain the incident of the Sudden City to the Guild, who all listen wide eyed and with occasional glances to each other.

“So wait,” Muse starts. “You were the invisible people?”

“To you, yes.” Bruce says.

He leans back in his chair. “That makes so much more sense. I thought you guys were cheat codes.”

“Cheat codes?”

“Well, we were fighting a video game.” I say. Bruce looks at me with a furrowed brow, but all I can manage is a shrug and a sheepish smile. He turns to the rest of the table. Muse and Ideas just shrug, Realization and Ambition both have sly, knowing grins on their faces, and Unexpectations isn’t even at the table - he’s sleeping at Ambition’s feet.

“A meteorite struck a game store and bought one of the games to life.” Ideas says.

“It was a whole thing.” I say.

“How does that even work?” Bruce asks.

Ambition puts her hands together over her head and then brings them down apart in an arc motion. “Who knows.”

“The characters came to life and we had to complete the objective of the game.” Realization says.

Bruce looks back to me. “What was the objective of the game?”

“Kill everyone!” Ambition says, leaping up from her seat and slamming a fist on the table.

Bruce’s eyes go wide. Was he at a table full of murderers? They certainly didn’t seem capable of it earlier. And furthermore, did his helping them earlier mean he assisted in the deaths?

“Sit down.” Realization says, dragging Ambition back down to her chair. She looks over at Bruce. “They weren’t actually living people. The purpose of the game, _Reaper Glint_ -”

“Which is the greatest game of all time.” Ambition says, leaning back in her chair with her arms slung over the back.

“-it absolutely is but that’s not the point right now.” Realization says as she crosses her legs. “But the point of the game is that there’s a bunch of people who want to change something major in their life, so they enter a fighting competition to get this thing called the Reaper Glint. If they defeat everyone else in the competition, then they win and the Reaper Glint grants their wish or whatever. It could be that they want to keep a bad experience from ever happening or change their lifestyle into something completely different.”

“It’s dramatic and sad and amazing and the greatest game ever.” Ambition says. Then, without either of them looking at each other, she and Realization high five.

“So yeah, we didn’t actually kill anyone real. I’m not sure what they were but they weren’t alive or sentient in the way everyone else is. Kind of like how the non-player characters in games are just lines of code and are programmed to act a certain way or say specific lines of dialogue.” Realization says. Bruce nods.

“It’s cool that you had to use the comic, though.” I say with a smile. “It probably, like, prepared you for the revelation that this is all a comic and stuff.”

He nods again. “I suppose it did.”

However, it didn’t.

The door to the patio bursts open, making everyone at the table turn in surprise. Through the doorway walk in four figures Bruce has never seen before. A feminine figure with a TV for a head whose body is covered in a grey latex bodysuit and, with the addition of the heels that are apparently built into her suit, must stand at least six feet tall. Her arms are cut into segments with blue streams of electricity pulsing through them. Next to her are three figures that look almost identical to each other. Dressed in brown suits and hats, each with an abstract green eye on their pitch black, featureless faces, though in different positions on their face, and each one holds a different weapon. The tallest has the eye in the middle and holds a long, metal pipe that rests on his shoulder. The second tallest’s eye is on the right, he stands to the right of the tallest, and holds a crown bar down by his side. The shortest has his eye on the left, stands to the left of the tallest, and loosely swings a bat perpendicular with the ground.

The sight puts Bruce on edge and his muscles tense up, yet no one else at the table seem at all concerned. Everyone at least sits up and appears confused, but they aren’t worried.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

The figure with the bat swings it up and points it at Bruce. When he speaks, there’s a slight Brooklyn accent to it. “We’re here for him.”

Bruce’s hands grip tight to the arms of the chair and he contemplates what he could use around him as a weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the Guild look at each other. At least now they look a bit worried.

“Wait, you _all_ want him?” Realization asks. The newcomers nod. “Why?”

“Same reason we go after anyone.” The figure with the pipe says. “He’s got no visa.”

“And he’s from the right universes.” The TV lady says. Her voice is sharp and metallic to listen to. The words are stilted. “The far right.”

“So wait,” I say. “How can he be from a left universe and not have a visa, _and_ from a right universe?”

Bruce looks at me. “I’m from what?”

I blink. “Right...you don’t know.

“He doesn’t know?” The figure with the crowbar asks. “How could he not know? Anyone who steps into the universe knows.”

I sigh. “This is going to be a pain to explain. Someone get me a piece of paper and a pen or something.” I turn to Bruce. “I’m so sorry I have to do this to you.”

“Do what?” Bruce asks.

“Explain the universe system.”

Hobart steps out onto the patio and brings me a stack of paper and a pencil. He sets it on the table in front of me, then heads back inside.

“Thank you, Hobart.” I say, straightening the stack, taking one piece from it, and then pick up the pencil. I look over to the TV lady and the other figures. “Give me one second. Also, Bruce-” I point to the TV lady and Bruce looks over, “That’s Cathode-” then I point to the others, “-and the Eye Brothers - Toonie, Moonie, and Malone. Toonie has the pipe, Moonie’s got the crowbar, and Malone’s swinging the bat.” I turn back to the paper. “Okay, now this thing.”

I draw three parallel lines on the page with a good amount of space in between each line. Each line gets a title above it. From left to right it read ‘Pseudo Pseudo Universe’, ‘Pseudo Universe’, and ‘Real Universe’.

“Okay, there’s three core universes. We’re in the Pseudo Universe.” I say, pointing to the middle line. “Both the Pseudo Universe and the Pseudo Pseudo Universe are where the stories I write take place.”

I then draw a ton more lines in the spaces between the previous lines. Between the Pseudo Pseudo Universe and the Pseudo Universe are three lines, and then there’s about 20 lines between the Pseudo Universe and the Real Universe. These lines also get different titles above them and some are grouped into single titles as well.

“These are the in between, smaller universes. They either make cameos in stories from the Pseudo and Pseudo Pseudo universes, or they have, like, just one story in them. No one from any of these universes-” I motion to the Pseudo Universe and everything to the left of it, “-are allowed to cross over to the Real Universe, so that’s why there’s an infinite amount of universes called the 404 Zones as well as the infinite amount of fictional universes that I didn’t make up that exist between the Pseudo Universe and the Real Universe. They’re the barriers to keep all my fictional characters out.” I say.

“What’s the Alpha Zone?” Bruce asks. He’s paying attention, but still trying to keep an eye on Cathode and the Brothers. They look impatient already, though aren’t doing anything about it.

“It’s like...a merge between the two barrier groups. Each of the 404 Zones follow a theme or something. Cathode’s is all electronics based which is why she’s a TV lady.” I scratch my head with the pencil. “No one’s been to the Alpha Zone, but we _think_ it’s themed after the fictional universes I didn’t make or something. It’s really unclear and complicated I think, I’m not sure. It’s weird. I don’t even think I could get there, and I’m part of the Real Universe - which is why I can go to the 404 Zones sometimes.”

“What’s the theme of their universe?” Bruce asks, pointing to the Eye Brothers.

“We ain’t from the Zones.” Toonie says. His voice is low and the eye on his face narrows.

“We’re from this universe.” Moon says. He sounds much calmer than Toonie.

“Oh,” Bruce says. “My apologies.”

“Not a problem, you’re new to this all...somehow.” Malone says. “Don’t know how, though. Usually anyone who hops over here gets it all immediately.”

Bruce looks back to me as I stare at the paper, regretting how complicated I always make things.

“So…” I start. “Okay, hold on.”

I draw two arrows on both sides of the Pseudo Universe and underneath the other lines. The left arrow is labelled as ‘Eye Brothers’ and the right arrow is ‘Cathode & other Guides’.

“Sometimes people come into the Pseudo Universe from other universes kind of like you did.  If those people do show up and come in or whatever, then either the Eye Brothers or Cathode takes them back to their original universe - except it depends on where they’re from who takes them back. If they’re from the left universes like the Pseudo Pseudo Universe, then the Eye Brothers will deal with them. But if they’re from the right universes like any of the 404 Zones, then Cathode or a different Guide will deal with them, though Cathode’s the only Guide that really spends any time in the Pseudo Universe. There’s some instances where it is allowed for people to come to the Pseudo Universe though - like if they have a visa from the Swing Club where the Brothers work, a Guide brings them over, or if I say it’s cool. Speaking of which-” I look over to Cathode and the Brothers. “-it’s cool.”

Toonie shrugs his shoulders, then lets the pipe swing down to his side where he starts to twirl it. “That’s fine and all, Jamie, but that doesn’t explain why all of us were told to come get him. Somethin’s gotta be up if he’s from both sides of the universe.”

I pause and everyone looks at me. I look at Bruce. “That is weird.”

“Well, aren’t I from something you didn’t make?” He asks.

“Yeah, which would put you in the universes after the Alpha Zone, but that doesn’t explain why they’re here.” I say, pointing to the Brothers. “They only deal with characters and stuff I make up. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Tell me about your universe. And like...what all was going on there before you ended up here. Anything you think might be...important information? Or odd?”

Bruce thinks for a second. He’s not sure what they all would consider odd. Sure, it wasn’t really a normal life he led, but they were all aware of that already. Plus, he was so used to everything he did that it seemed not particularly strange to him.

“Jamie, why don’t you just come right out and ask him?” Ambition says, still leaning back in her chair. Unexpectations gets up from the patio and sets his chin on the table.

“I thought it’d be weird if I knew.” I say in a harsh whisper. “And what if I’m wrong?”

Bruce glances at me with a raised eyebrow, then to Ambition. “Ask me what?”

“Are you working with the Joker? Like...legit working with him. Trying to make him not the worst thing ever in the history of everything.” Ambition says.

Bruce raises an eyebrow. That was, quite an accurate guess. “I am. And I have to admit, that’s a very specific thing for you to know.”

It’s too specific. Well, at least, in the Guild’s way of being specific. An all encompassing vague specificness. Sort of how they used the terms ‘stuff’ and ‘thing’ and ‘whatever’ too much, but it’s still understood what they’re talking about. He only spent a day with them and they used those words more than he’d ever heard anyone else use them.

I stare at Bruce with wide eyes. “Holy frick.”

“What?” He asks.

“I suddenly understand everything. I know why everyone’s here and stuff.”

“Do explain.”

“I wrote that story.” No response aside from Bruce looking more confused. “Like, I wrote the story of you and Joker working together and him being not exactly the worst anymore or whatever.”

Bruce pauses for another moment before speaking. “I thought you said-”

“I know, I know. I still didn’t create you or anything. I just created that specific _scenario_.” I pause and look down at the ground. “Please don’t make me explain anymore.”

“I think you may have to.” Bruce says.

I get up from the table and start walking towards the ocean while everyone watches me. I don’t look up from the ground.

“Jamie, get back here.” Realization says.

I stop and turn to her. “I am not explaining fanfiction to Batman. I’m walking into the ocean and no one can stop me. This is the moment the day has been leading to.”

At that moment, the Guild members still at the table jump up from their chairs and sprint for me. In turn, I start sprinting for the ocean, screaming about how they need to accept my fate because I already have.

Bruce is left at the table and he watches the Guild clamber after me and into the ocean where Ambition tackles me into the water. He turns to Cathode and the Brothers. Cathode’s screen is lit up with images of Bruce, both in and out of the Batsuit, as well as flashes of other images he can’t quite pick up on. It stops on an image of a red moon, then shuts off. The Brothers just stare at him while that happens. After a moment of standing in silence, they turn and leave without a word, leaving Bruce alone at the table while the Guild fights with me in the ocean.


	6. MIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Batman missing, his friends and Gotham have to try to adjust until they find him.

Superman and Wonder Woman had shown up not too long after Robin put out the alert to the Justice League that Batman had gone missing. They both showed up to Wayne Manor just minutes after they were informed. Batman had disappeared and gone into hiding before, but for Robin to feel the need to notify all of the Justice League about it meant that something was wrong.

Robin told them about how Batman went after Deathstroke without any backup, and how when he and the Joker got to the warehouse to help, Batman wasn’t anywhere around. Neither was Deathstroke. All that was there was a pool of blood that matched up with Batman’s.

“The Joker says it’s a test,” Robin said to Wonder Woman and Superman. “But he thinks everything Batman does is a test for him.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust me.” The Joker said, spinning around in one of the two chairs set before the Batcomputer. “He never has and never will. He has to keep checking on whether I’m still on your side or not.”

“Well are you?” Robin asked, leaning against the control panel for the computer.

“There’s no use in going back to my old ways at this point. So yeah, I am.”

For the first couple of days they searched, the Joker would not cooperate. He kept insisting Batman would show up again. However, after those initial days, he started to get a bit more invested and willing to help, but still with some resistance.

Superman and Wonder Woman traded off protecting Gotham in addition to their other heroic exploits. Thankfully for them, it was like the criminals in Gotham were conditioned to only commit crimes at night, so they’d have the whole day to themselves to help the rest of the world and look for Batman. Alfred told people that both Bruce and Tim had left on a trip to Europe for a while, which gave Robin an excuse to stay home from school and search for Batman. Robin informed Commissioner Gordon of the situation as well, and he agreed to keep it quiet, but insisted he look into it as well.

After two weeks of Batman being gone, Nightwing awoke from his coma, and as soon as he heard Batman had disappeared he wanted to help - most notably by offering to pretend to be Batman until they found him. The criminals had started to notice that the Bat wasn't the one coming after them, and, even though it was Wonder Woman and Superman stopping them, they were starting to get braver. Without Gotham's protector, they felt freer to do whatever they pleased.

"I'm not Bruce," Nightwing had said when trying to convince Wonder Woman and Superman. "But Gotham needs a Batman."

And so it happened. Nightwing took on the cowl while Wonder Woman and Superman returned to their own duties, though still assisting with the search for Batman when they had the chance. Within the first two days of Nightwing being Batman, the criminals had dropped their brave fronts and went back to lurking in the shadows.

Granted, there was someone unhappy with the idea - the Joker.

But they didn't listen to him. When did he know what was _good_ for Gotham?

Though, it turned out, he wasn't thinking about what was good for Gotham. He was thinking about what was good for himself.

The Joker stared up at the Batcomputer's dozens of screens as it displayed different street cameras around Gotham. Nightwing - or Dick Grayson as the Joker kept being reminded was his real name, not that he cared all that much - had forced Joker on monitor duty while he and Robin went out on patrol. As soon as Dick had put on the Bat suit, the Joker was offended. How dare he play dress up as his arch-enemy! Especially being a former Robin and all. Ridiculous. An outrage even.

Then again, could he even truly consider Batman to be his arch-enemy anymore? They had been working together for quite a while at that point, and through an array of mishaps after they started working together, the Joker was forced to live at Wayne Manor. Sure, they still might not get along or anything, but any other set of arch-enemies would have killed each other by now - especially with having to be in such close quarters all the time. Yet these two had managed to suffer through it to the point of it almost seeming ordinary to them.

The Joker smiled thinking about how much that revelation would have made the real Batman cringe.

"Anything come up yet, Joker?" Robin's voice came through the headpiece Dick had forced onto the Joker before they left. The Joker was glad it was the current Robin speaking to him instead of the one that left the nest so long ago. He liked Tim a lot more.

"Nope." He said, flicking the pencil in his hand across the control panel of the computer. He had gotten bored of watching the screens and tried to get himself to doodle something, but couldn't focus enough to get anything made.

"Are you even paying attention to any of the feeds?" Robin asked.

"Nope."

"You're not missing anything." Selina Kyle said, sitting in the office chair besides the Joker. She, too, wore a headpiece and was helping with monitoring Gotham. After she found out Batman was gone, she started staying at the mansion and helping with the search as well. And much to everyone's gratefulness, she was also there to keep an eye on the Joker. She’d had even more experience dealing with him than Batman did.

She shoved a bowl of grapes in the Joker’s face and he stared at it. When he didn’t move to take any, she shook it in his face. With a sigh, he took the bowl from her and starting picking them off.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this.” Selina said, turning her chair to face him. “I thought you’d have fun harassing the new blood.”

“He’s not new blood if he was Robin before. He knows who and how I am. And he’s got a sense of humor that’d mesh well with mine if only we got along better.” He said better shoving grapes in his mouth.

“So why don’t you like him?”

“He’s not Batman.” With a foot, he pushed away from the control panel and rolled across the floor, taking the grapes with him. “He doesn’t get mad when I make bad puns and dumb jokes at his expense. What’s the point in antagonizing someone with unwanted humor if they antagonize you right back with their own?”

“You don’t want to have a joke battle with him?” Selina turned back to the screens.

“Absolutely not.” He pushed himself back to the control panel. His chair bounced off the panel when he hit it. “There’s only a handful of people I’d allow that from, and Fake Batman isn’t one.”

“Dick’s a great kid, though.”

“I don’t care.” He spun around to face the screens, still clutching the bowl of grapes and intermittently popping a few in his mouth. They sat in silence while watching Gotham’s streets. It was surprisingly quiet so far that night, though there was plenty of time left for anything to happen. A couple instances of small crimes that Selina told Dick and Robin about, but other than that, it was slow.

“Are you still trying to look for Ed, too?” Selina asked. The Joker shook his head and stared down at the bowl. In addition to Batman having disappeared, Edward Nygma had also dropped off the face of the earth, though he went missing months before. Batman wasn’t too concerned when it happened, which infuriated the Joker to no end, especially now that he had to look for Batman with some sort of investment. He tried looking for Ed on his own, but there had hardly been any clues to what happened to him - whether it be that he left on his own or if something unfortunate was at play. Any attempt to call him was fruitless when the Joker tried, as Ed’s voicemail was disconnected and the calls were never accepted.

The Joker set the bowl on the panel. “He’s just gone.”

“Pamela said she got a call through to him” Selina said, clicking through the different camera feeds. The Joker looked over to her but she didn’t turn. “He said he’s safe, but didn’t really want to elaborate past that. She pushed him into telling her that he’s trying to start a new life somewhere, but he wouldn’t say where or what he was doing.”

The Joker didn’t say anything and he turned back to the bowl in front of him. If he was Batman, he might have found a way to trace the call back and find out where Edward was. But he wasn’t. He could hardly even work a phone himself.

And with Pamela having gotten a call through but not him, it kind of hurt. Why was she allowed to talk to Edward instead of him? He knew Edward longer, and he thought they were closer friends. But it was Pamela who got to talk to him.

It made the sinking feeling in his soul cut deeper.

The night went on in relative slowness. A few small crimes here and there, but nothing major.

“Where do you think they are?” The Joker asked, breaking the suffocating silence they had sat in.

Selina looked at him. “Who? Bruce or Ed?”

“Both. Either. Doesn’t matter I guess.” He said. She turned back to the screens.

“I don’t know.” She said. “I just hope they’re okay.”


	7. The Gang Kidnaps Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman has been kidnapped, except there’s something oddly familiar about his kidnappers.

Bruce’s head throbs and he struggles to open his eyes. He could feel heat beating down on him and something tight digging into his arms and body. It takes some time before his eyes focus and he can get himself to look around to discern what’s going on.

He’s tied to a chair, in the middle of a dark room, with just one light hanging over his head, and with a bulky broadcasting camera pointing towards him.

To be honest, he figured being in Beverly Hills meant he wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of thing anymore.

 _I haven’t even been here for a week and I’m already being held for ransom_ , he thought.

The last thing he remembers before waking up here is the Guild showing him around Beverly Hills, showing off their favorite streets and places in the city. Every once in awhile someone would say ‘hello’ to them and, after talking for a bit, the Guild would introduce them to Bruce. He met at least twenty people on their walk around the city, and he had a feeling that wasn’t even half the people that they would have run into if he was still there.

He’s almost grateful for that.

But then the Discursed showed up - though, again, Bruce didn’t get a good look at them. Five streaks of light showed up and smacked into the Guild, then flew off with them into the sky. Bruce was left behind with the most recent people he had been introduced to - Chelsey Chavez, Bo Clark, Fraiser Rose III, and Fergus Houston. As soon as the Guild were carried off, Chelsey pulled out her phone to record it, laughing while she did.

“Shouldn’t we alert someone to help them?” Bruce said. He wanted to help them himself, but the Discursed had dragged the Guild way too far above the city for him to even imagine attempting to help them without any of his usual tools.

“Nah. It’s the freaking Guild. They’ll be fine.” Chelsey said. She was a short, plump Mexican woman with undercut bleach blonde hair. Her shirt had the logo of a pizza place the Guild insisted had the best pizza in the city, and it read ‘I wish I was pizza, then everyone would love me.’ The Guild also insisted that everyone loved Chelsey, so her being pizza wouldn’t change anything. Bruce was unsure what to do with that information.

With a blast of energy that sent a crack throughout the city so loud Bruce almost mistook it for an explosion, the Discursed shot the Guild straight back down to the road just beyond where he and the others stood. They all managed to catch themselves before striking the pavement, however, and zipped back up into the sky within seconds.

“How long do you think the ‘war’ is going to keep up?” Bo asked as he stared up to the fight. He was a Native American man with long purple hair, coated in tattoos, and stood leagues taller than Chelsey.

“DJ said it’d probably go until she wanted to just hang out with the Guild like normal again.” Fraiser said. Fraiser was a black man with buzz cut hair and was just a bit shorter than Bruce was. “So give it about, 2 more hours I think.”

“I don’t know, man,” Bo said, not looking away from the flashes of color from the fight above them. “DJ seems pretty into the fighting this time around. She might stick it out for longer than normal.”

Fraiser shot a glare to Bo. “I think I know DJ better than you do.”

“You probably do, Fraiser,” Fergus said, looking back at Fraiser from where he sat on a bench facing the street. He was a Scottish man with red hair even longer than Bo’s and a beard to match it. “But Bo’s kind of got a point this time around, I think. DJ’s a little more violent than usual.”

Another cracking sound about as loud as the previous one shattered their conversation and made the group jump and turn to the fight above them right as a blue streak shot off from the group and over the city. It was soon followed by a black streak of light speeding off after it. Other colored streaks soon chased after them as well as each other, and the fight appeared to proceed on further into the city.

“You see my point?” Bo asked.

“Who exactly are the Discursed?” Bruce asked, right before the Guild sped by and skidded across the asphalt in front of them. Before Bruce had the chance to jump out to help them, the Guild picked themselves up and shot off into the sky.

“Chill, Bruceman. The Guild’s good.” Chelsey said. Bruce, however, did not ‘chill’. Instead, he was still rather poised to help them.

“Did you not get to the Discursed yet?” Fergus asked, looking over to Bruce. “Or are you not reading the comic?”

“Haven’t gotten there yet.” Bruce said, still trying to fight the urge to help the Guild whenever they got smashed into the ground - which kept happening. Over and over again. Then they’d just get back up and fly into the air. Whenever they did pause for a brief second as they picked themselves up off the ground, he could see the numerous cuts and tears all over them and their power outfits.

“Where are you at?” He asked.

“The one about the backstories.” As soon as Bruce finished saying that, the group all gave a collective ‘Ohh’. Bruce looked at them each. “What?”

“There’s just a lot that happens in that arc.” Bo said. “Just...so much to unpack.”

“You’re not very far though.” Fergus said. “The Discursed are at the end of Season One.”

“What ‘Season’ are you on now?” Bruce asked.

“We just finished four.” Chelsey said as she stepped up onto the bench next to Fergus, then went back to filming the scene above her. “We’re not really in five yet, though. We’re getting a little breathing room from all the crap that went down from the end of three to now.”

“What happened?” He asked. There was a pause. Fergus and Bo looked to Fraiser, and even Chelsey seemed to stop focusing on the battle for a second.

“You’ll see.” She said.

And that’s where the memory ended and this began.

Bruce looks around again and notices that, instead of the clothes he had been wearing, he was in a Batsuit. And not just a costume or imitation of one, it’s an actual Batsuit. It certainly feels like one at least.

He hears voices ahead of him in the darkness and, as his eyes adjust, he can see several figures standing on a balcony in front of a giant window that’s glass is far too dark to let any significant amount of light in. Though as he watches the figures, he notices that the glass is brightening, like it’s on a dimmer switch. He focuses and tries to listen in on what’s being said.

“-I’m just saying we’d look cooler with a really dim light like this behind us.” The first voice says. Female, and sounds...almost familiar. Like someone he knows doing an impression of someone else, but he can’t put a finger on either element of it.

“I feel like you’re wrong on that.” A much deeper and masculine voice replies. The window continues to lighten up. “Emerging from pure darkness would be more intimidating and unexpected.”

The windows let in enough light to where the figures are more defined shadows to Bruce, but what he sees throws him off a bit.

Five shadows in total, and, in a way, resembling the Writer’s Guild. One tall with giant, pointy ears and a tail swishing behind him like with Unexpectations, though it seems he’s wearing a long coat with a high collar. A monkey in a robe hops up onto that shadow’s shoulder. There’s a skeleton Bruce can only discern to be so due to the prominent skull, as the rest of the shadow’s body is dressed in...well what looks to be a pirate’s outfit from what he can tell. A woman with a witch hat stands next to the skeleton. She doesn’t have any sort of tentacle-like appendages, so it would most likely be Realization, along with how her long hair is pulled back. The final figure stands staring up at the windows. Again, no tentacles so it isn’t Ambition, but it’s hard to jump to the conclusion of it being  Jamie since the figure is mostly obscured by a giant fur coat, or at least what looks like a giant fur coat.

The window stops brightening up, then starts to dim again.

“Okay sure.” The first voice says. It must belong to the one in the fur coat, as she then, in the dimming light, shakes a finger at the Unexpectations look alike. “But don’t complain to me when you trip down the stairs.”

“If anyone did that, it’d be you.” The Unexpectations look alike says. He’s the same deep speaker from before, which brings up more questions for Bruce. Unexpectations had a rather higher voice, and definitely not one this authoritative.

“Shut your mouth.” She says.

Bruce loses sight of them as the window goes back to black. He can hear them walking across what must be the balcony - their footsteps on the metal heavy and loud - and talking to each other still.

“You’ve got everything set up, right?” The first voice asks.

“Of course I do. I’m the only one who knows how to work the broadcasting equipment anyway.” The deep voice replies.

“Oh look out everyone, I forgot we had a freaking genius on our team.”

“That’s because all your counterparts have all the brains.”

There’s several shouts of offense from that, but the potential argument is cut short booming voice so loud it shakes the room.

“Stop your bickering. Your guest is awake.” It says. Whoever spoke is sitting behind Bruce, but when he turns, he can’t see the speaker in the darkness.

“You’ll ruin whatever good graces with Fear you’ve gained if you keep with it.” Another voice behind him says, but it sounded so similar to the other voice that it could be the same speaker, just having moved to the right.

There’s silence all around Bruce until a few lazy footsteps echo and grow louder as they approach. The shine of a black leather boot glints as it enters the cone of light falling on Bruce. His eyes scan upwards, taking in the odd and impractical black outfit she wore, as well as the white coat that swallows her up in fur. The shine of her gold Tommy Gun she rests on her shoulder also catches his eye, but he’s soon only concerned with her face when she fully steps into the light.

That blood red smile. The white skin. The green hair.

“Hello, Batman.” She says. With just those two words, he can tell she’s the voice from earlier talking about the windows and light. And also with just those two words, he knows who she sounds like and who she’s trying to do an impression of.

She sounds like Jamie. Doing an impression of the Joker.

What made it even worse is that she looks like Jamie dressed as him, too.

It’s her, isn’t it? This is some sick joke she’s pulling. Playing dress up and tying him up.

He’s staying with a bunch of lunatics.

“What?” She asks with a cock of her head. “That speechless? Didn’t think I looked that good.” She pauses. “That’s a lie. I knew I did.”

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Whatever we want, Batsy.” She struts up to him and leans over to shove her face into his. “Is there an issue with that?”

“Plenty.” He says.

She lets out a low giggle and stands back up, looking back to the figures he can hardly make out standing  just beyond the light. “Guess we’re not that great of hosts.”

“Rude. We even gave him a chair to sit in.” A masculine voice says with a thick accent akin to a pirate’s.

“I told you we should have just hung him upside down.” A raspy, feminine voice says.

“Next time, sweetheart.” The pirate voice says.

“Ugh, gross, relationships.” The green haired Jamie look alike says, spinning around and plopping herself down on Bruce’s lap. She gives him a smile, which he answers with a glare. Her smile persists.

“Aren’t you dating that Fraiser fellow?” The deep authoritative voice that belongs to the Unexpectations look alike says. Bruce still can’t see what he looks like up close since he, like the rest of the group, are still in the shadows.

“Yeah, but I’m fine with that relationship because it’s _my_ relationship.” She says, halfway turning back to the shadows around them. “All others are gross and annoying.”

“You’re gross and annoying.” A different voice says. More raspy than the feminine one, but also deeper and more masculine.

“Oh bite me.” She says, receiving a few small laughs from the group, though getting nothing from Bruce still. She looks back to him and cocks her head, but she still smiles. “You look uncomfortable. Can I get you anything to make your stay better? A complimentary mint on your pillow perhaps?”

“You can explain what’s going on.” Bruce says.

“Uh...we _kidnapped_ you?” She glances back to the shadowed group. “I thought that was obvious.”

“But why?”

She raises an eyebrow. “For _bait?_ ”

“For who?” He asks.

She blinks and cocks her head again. “What?”

“Who are you using me as bait for?”

A pause. “Are you serious?” Another pause. “Who do you think we’re using you as bait for?”

“You can’t be using me as bait for the Discursed. You said I’m the reason they started the whole war between you two in the first place. So who am I being used as bait for?”

She stares at him blankly for a bit, then a smile grows across her face before she bursts into laughter.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” she waves a hand and tries to collect herself. “Do you...do you think _we’re_ the Guild right now? Really?” Bruce furrows his brow and her eyes go wide. “Oh my gosh, you think we are! Holy frick!”

She proceeds to laugh again, as does the group in the shadows. It even sounds like whoever is above and behind Bruce is laughing as well.

The woman herself laughs so hard she falls off of Bruce’s lap and onto the floor, dropping her Tommy Gun next to her. For a moment she rolls around before pushing herself up to sit up. She wipes a few tears from her eyes. “Gosh this must be so _awkward_ for you! I can’t believe you thought I was Jamie! Heck.” She looks at Bruce and hits him in the knee, though not hard enough to agitate all the old injuries he’s sustained on it. “I should have kept that up! Jamie would’ve been _so_ embarrassed.” She leans her head back and stares up at the light. “Gosh, I even bet this was embarrassing just to _write_.”

His mind flashes back to the Sudden City. She was the one who got her heart ripped out in the comic book. He also remembers that afterwards, she was tossed down to the feet of Jamie. They were two separate people.

Bruce looks at her, still with a furrowed brow. “If you’re not her, who are you?”

She rolls her head over and raises an eyebrow with a grin. “Who the heck do you think I am, Batsy? Take a wild freakin’ guess. If I’m not Jamie and we’re not the Guild, then who are we?”

He pauses. “So you’re DJ, and you all are the Discursed.”

DJ claps her hands and points at Bruce. “Bingo, buddy!”

“Why do you-”

“Look like the Joker? That’s literally everyone’s first question. And I can give you the exact answer because I’ve said it so many times.” She holds up her hands and motions them to present herself. “Because he’s the best villain.” She shrugs. “Or at least, he’s Jamie’s favorite villain. So then what would evil her be?” She places her hands on her chest. “The best of both worlds - which is me. Discursed Jamie. DJ for short.” Then she slaps her hands to her thighs. “And I think it’s high time you met the rest of the gang. If they’d be so kind as to introduce themselves as well.”

The first figure steps from the darkness into the cone of light. It looks like Muse, except if he dressed in a red pirate captain’s outfit and glued a mustache to his face. He bows, and Bruce notices his left hand is a hook.

“Discursed Muse. Modeled after Captain Hook.” His voice is the pirate accented one from earlier. Unsurprising. He stands up straight and smiles. “Call me Dungeon Master.”

Bruce does not want to call him that, so he says nothing.

The next figure steps out from the shadows. She mostly looks like Realization, aside from her skin being fully green instead of dark and studded with stars. She’s dressed as a witch.

“Discursed Realization. Mocking the Wicked Witch of the West.” She does a bit of a curtsey. Her voice is the somewhat raspy feminine one. “Better known as Doc.”

A third figure jumps down into the light, most likely having been sitting on the still hidden fourth figure’s shoulder. He’s a monkey like Ideas, but with a red and black face, a crown of horns, and decked out in black robes.

“Discursed Ideas. Inspired by Darth Maul.” His voice is the raspier and more masculine one. He nods to Bruce. “Commonly known as Darth Di.”

The final figure glides out of the shadows and into the light. It’s the Unexpectations look alike, but unlike Unexpectations, there is not a friendly looking bit about him. He’s dressed in a high collared blue coat and has a little yellow bowtie planted in the fur ruff of his neck. His eyes are narrowed. A red streak crosses his muzzle, the tips of his ears are black, and the ends of his cheek fur are yellow.

“Discursed Unexpectations. Tony the Clock.” His voice is the deepest out of the group with no sense of joy in it like the others had had. He stays as still as a statue when addressing Bruce. “Ben.”

“He’s so underrated.” DJ says with a smile. Ben’s narrow black eyes glance over at her, but that’s the only reaction he gives. DJ then holds her arms out to present the group who stand behind her. “Anyway, here we are! The Discursed!”

Bruce stares at her. She waits for any other reaction.

“You don’t seem impressed.” She says.

“Why are there only five of you? There’s six of the Guild members. You don’t have an Ambition.” Bruce says.

“Hey!” Doc says, lurching forward before Dungeon Master grabs her to hold her back. “We’ve got plenty of ambition!”

“Sweetie, he meant we don’t have a _Discursed_ Ambition.” Dungeon Master says. Doc looks at him.

“I think we do.” She says.

Ben sighs and glares at her. “The character, Doc. Dark Age. We don’t have Dark Age.”

Doc looks at him for a few moments in silence. The group waits for a response. A couple moments more, then she nods and says: “Oh...right. Okay.”

“There you go.” Dungeon Master says, patting her shoulder.

“Yeah, we don’t have a Discursed Ambition. ‘Dad’ couldn’t catch one.” DJ says, giving a glance to Bruce while shifting to sit with her legs crossed.

Bruce pauses. “‘Dad’?”

DJ nods. “Yeah. ‘Dad’.”

Again, a pause.

“‘Dad’.” Bruce says.

“Yeah.” She says.

“You have a dad.”

“Kind of.”

Another pause.

“How do you kind of have a dad?” He asks.

“I mean,” DJ shrugs. “He _made_ us and everything. We’re called the Discursed because his name is Discurse. We just kind of call him ‘Dad’.” She pauses, then holds up a hand and shakes her head. “Not that we’re like, related or anything. That’d make everything weird with Doc and Dungeon Master here.”

Doc looks over at Dungeon Master and gives him a cheesy smile. Dungeon Master smiles back, though Bruce can’t figure out how he knows that Dungeon Master is smiling. Ben rolls his eyes.

DJ gets up from the ground and puts her hands on her hips. “Also technically there’s two of them, so I guess it’s really ‘Dads’. I mean, I don’t really know, since he’s just a two headed dude? Then again, everyone refers to him as the single pronoun of ‘him’ so...I don’t know.” She looks up to the darkness above and behind Bruce. “Hey ‘Dad’! What works?”

There’s a deep sigh that almost rumbles through the whole room. “Don’t you have a ransom to deal with?”

“Ugh, fine, yeah.” DJ says. She picks up her gun from the ground and rests it on her shoulder again. She turns to Ben. “Ben, camera me.”

Ben slides back into the shadows. DJ waves the rest of the Discursed out of the way, readjusts her coat and hair, then positions herself directly in front of the camera’s lens.

“Ready?” Ben asks.

“For a camera on my face? The attention? What exactly am I supposed to not already be ready for?” DJ sighs. “C’mon, Ben. I’m always ready.”

“Good. Because I started filming before I even asked if you were.” He says.

DJ pauses. “Ben, I swear that sometimes you’re an absolute-”

“You’re live, DJ.”

“BEVERLY HILLS!” She shouts to the camera and throws her arms out. “Specifically the Writer’s Guild. I’m here to address you in this time of need and strife.”

“‘Need’?” Ben asks.

“Shut up, Ben.” DJ shoots him a glare before going back to the camera. “If you haven’t noticed - and I know Jamie probably has - but your precious little Batman is missing-”

“I am not ‘precious’ or ‘little.’” Bruce says.

DJ looks back at him and shoots him his own personal glare. “Well if you don’t stop being _mouthy_ then you’re going to be dead so shut your face hole before I shoot you five more.” She turns back to the camera. “Anyway: Guild get here now before I shoot your boy. You’ve got like,” she pauses and shakes her coat sleeve back to check the watch on her wrist, “-two minutes or something.” She looks into the darkness towards Ben. “You can cut the feed now”

“Fine.” Ben says.

The room goes silent and the Discursed just sort of stand around. DJ rocks on her heels and they all exchange glances with each other every once in awhile. Doc settles her head on Dungeon Master’s shoulder. Darth Di climbs up onto Ben’s shoulder once Ben steps back into the cone of light.

“Are you all really just waiting for them to get here now?” Bruce asks.

DJ raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He pauses. “Really?”

“Well what do you want us to do? Torture you?” No response. “Yeah, I didn’t think so, bud.”

“Should we undim the windows? I don’t think we really want to fight in the dark.” Darth Di asks.

“Ooh yeah, good idea.” DJ searches around her coat pockets and pulls out a little remote. She presses a button and the giant windows ahead of them begin to lighten up. About halfway through the undimming process, six streaks of light burst through the window and shatter the whole thing as the speed straight for the Discursed.

“Wait, no, I wasn’t ready!” DJ yells as the blue streak smacks right into her and drags her across the floor. As they slide to a halt about a foot from Bruce, the rest of the streaks of light smack into the other members of the Discursed, though the red streaks zips past all of them and goes straight past to where Bruce assumes Discurse to be.

Sitting on DJ’s chest and clutching her coat collar in one hand while the other is pulled back in preparation for a punch is me, glaring.

“Where’s Batman?!” I ask, not breaking eye contact with DJ.

She points back up and behind her to where Bruce still remains, tied to the chair. “Right there, you idiot.”

I look up, see Bruce, then smile. “Oh hey cool, you’re fine.” I pause. “Why are you in the Batsuit, though?”

“Because I put him in it.” DJ says before smacking me in the face with the broad side of her Tommy Gun and knocking me off her to the side. She jumps up from the ground and stumbles away from me and I clamber to get up.

I clutch the side of my face and look at DJ. “Can you untie him at least?”

“He’ll get in the way.” DJ says.

“No he won’t!” I look over to Bruce. “Right?”

“He’ll try to help you and it won’t work and then he’ll die.” She says.

I glance back to DJ. “Oh c’mon, he’s smarter than that.”

DJ looks over at Bruce. “If I untie you are you going to help them?”

“Yes.” He says.

“Told you.” DJ says.

“Gosh dang it, Batman.” I say. There’s a pause. The sounds of everyone else fighting around us fills the potential silence. The light from outside coats the room and Bruce can finally see the giant metal room we’re all in. It’s not like a warehouse, though. More like a multi-story storage bay for a space ship.

“So now what?” DJ asks.

“Well we can’t just leave him tied up here.” I say.

“Why not?” She asks.

“Because it’s weird!”

“No it’s not.”

“DJ, it’s weird.”

“I mean-”

“DJ, untie him.”

“But he’s going to get in the way and you’ll be mad if I hurt him.”

“Then don’t hurt him!”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll release him or whatever.” DJ says. There’s a sudden flash of black light around her and her outfit changes from the oddly designed black leather one and fur coat to a new, still black outfit. She motions with her free hand and the ropes around Bruce are also shrouded in a black light, then disappear and he’s freed from the chair. He stands up.

“Thank you, DJ.” I say. She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Can we go back to fighting? Everyone else is doing it.” She pauses and looks to whatever’s behind Bruce.

Though he doesn’t want to turn his back on DJ, he gives a quick glance behind him. Or, at least, it was supposed to be a quick glance until he saw the looming two headed dragon who seemed to absorb all the light that touched it and casually talking to Ambition who’s hovering besides one of the heads.

“Well, Ambition and ‘dad’ aren’t. This place isn’t big enough for that.” DJ says.

“Yeah, we can fight. That’s fine.” I say.

Before Bruce has the chance to turn around, DJ’s launching me across the room with a blast of black energy, then flying right after me. And before Bruce could react to that or how I slammed into the metal wall, I tackle DJ back over towards him. I throw her into the ground, and kick her back towards the opposite wall once she stumbles into a standing position. I look over to Bruce and hold up a hand.

“Just give it like, five minutes and then we’ll be done and out of here, okay?” I say, right as DJ flies back over and punches me in the jaw. DJ grabs me and we launch off through the giant window while I yell to Bruce: “Just don’t do anything!”

Unfortunately for me, Batman does not stand by and watch people fight.

I throw DJ back through the broken window and she skids off the metal floor of the room, right back to Bruce. He grabs her by the arms when she slips into his reach.

“Hey!” She shouts. She smashes the back of her head into Bruce’s nose, but it makes him hold onto her arms tighter. An aura of black energy starts to pump out of her and he feels his hands start to burn. He lets go and she rolls away from him, glaring when she stops. He glances down at his gloves and sees part of them were disintegrated. A noise alerts him and he glances back up, but not in time to stop DJ from launching herself forward and kicking him right in his sternum, throwing him to the ground. As he tries to get up, she throws herself at him again and thrusts him across the room by her shoulder. He hits the metal floor and she lands next to him. The black aura envelops her again as she slams her foot down on his throat. He lunges to tear it off, but two black vines whip out from the ground under him and pull his arms back down. The vines start to burn his wrists like the energy had before.

“I’m not playing your villain right now, Bat-boy. And you don’t want me to star in that role anytime soon.” She hisses.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce spots a blue streak scream towards DJ before pulling her off him as it passes. He leaps off the ground right as I throw DJ back to the metal wall past him. She smacks into it harder than she hit anything else in the fight so far. I drop down to where Bruce stands.

“Seriously, what did I just say?” I ask, trying not to let it come across as angry.

Before he even has the chance to respond, DJ chucks a wooden crate the size of me at us both. I go to blast it with my own blue energy, but Bruce, being a hero, pushes me out of the way instead. The energy blast from me flies off in the wrong direction and burns a hole straight through the wall. In a split second, a rope of blue energy launches from my hand and I pull the crate towards where I fell to the floor and away from Bruce. With a sharp tug, the crate flies over me and hits the floor behind me. I jump up from the floor and point to Bruce.

“Just wait! Just stay there! Just...wait!” I say, then fly off to fight DJ again.

Bruce, however, still did not listen to me. For the whole fight, he kept intervening and attacking DJ whenever he had the chance. Whenever he could, he’d land a hit on her, and then it became my job to keep her from getting one on him in return.

After a particularly nasty hit to my face from DJ, I’m flat on the floor. My face drips with blood and she stands over and behind me, waiting for me to get back up and keep the fight going. My arms wobble as I start to push myself up, and I feel her red hot gaze digging its way under my skin. But it’s cut off in a second when I hear Bruce get another hit on her that knocks her to the floor as well. She’s faster to get up than I am and she spins herself around to face Bruce. There’s a certain _vwip_ of a noise that I hear all too often when we fight and a flash a light that I see equally as often. Just like me, DJ can make her weapons disappear into thin air and return right when she needs them. But while I have my clock hand sword, which is simple and not super stress inducing to have sudden appear in front of you, DJ has a tommy gun.

A tommy gun.

Which is a gun.

And a weapon.

A weapon that she 100% plans to use against Batman.

Who’s not me.

Which is bad.

The only person who should get shot by that gun is me.

DJ swings the tommy gun around and points it directly for Bruce’s chest. He can’t move in time, but thankfully, I can.

In a split second that I can’t even recall, I’m up in front of Bruce with about a pound of lead in my chest. I can’t even remember the sound of the gunshots, but here we are I guess.

“Jamie, you freaking idiot.” DJ says, dropping her tommy gun down to her side and setting a hand on her hip.

Bruce freezes up behind me and stares in horror at where I, too, have frozen up - except mine is more in pain rather than surprise. This is the person he was trying to protect, who has literally just taken a bullet for him.

Well, about a dozen bullets for him.

Actually, probably two dozen with how...generous...DJ is.

I drop to my knees and curl up right there with my fists balled up. My nails dig into my hands, but I can’t even feel it over the pain that making all my veins scream in my torso.

“You good, Batman?” I ask, not moving from this almost fetal position I’ve collapsed into. “I mean, I don’t want to have done that for nothing.”

The only response is a sudden noise that I assume is Bruce lunging for DJ. Without a second thought I throw up a force field of blue energy and hold him back. I pull it backwards as I start to push myself up from the floor, forcing him to move back with it. I look down and see a pool of dark blood sitting where I was. I get myself up to an almost standing position and prop myself up by one hand on my knee while I keep pushing Bruce back with the force field.

“Are you doing alright?” DJ asks, bending down and shoving her face in mine. For once, she’s not smiling. In fact, she actually looks...well, she actually looks annoyed. Not really a first, especially in this fight.

“Yeah. Give me a second.” I take a deep breath of a thousand weights on my chest and force myself to stand up straight. The pain is going away, which is nice, but it’s still kind of there.

“You can’t keep fighting, Jamie.” I hear Bruce say from behind me.

“Yes I can.” I say, not turning to him and still pushing him back with the force field. I lock eyes with DJ as she stands up as well. As we stare at each other, I try to regulate my breathing back to normal instead of the deep and heavy breaths I’ve been taking from both the pain and the fighting.

“You can’t push yourself like this.” He says. “Do you realize how many bullets-”

“It’s cool, Batman,” I start, then narrow my eyes at DJ. “I’m invincible.”

The soft sounds of the rest of the Guild and the Discursed landing on the metal floor behind me signal to me that their fights are all done. That of course only means one thing.

There’s only one fight left to finish.

“Can the rest of you watch Batman for me?” I ask, not turning. DJ lets her gun vanish again, meaning she knows what’s up, too.

“Yep.” The rest of the Guild replies. I drop the force field in front of Bruce and stare at DJ for a moment.

“Ready?” I ask.

She smiles a smile that basically takes over her whole face. “Definitely.”

“Alright. Winner wins the war.” I say.

There’s a single hesitation of a moment, and then it all breaks loose.

The Guild, Discursed, and Bruce watch as I blast DJ with all the force I should have been using in the first place back out through the giant window. With a _crack_ , I speed off after her. The group’s left in silence for only seconds before the chaos of our fight finds its way back indoors as we break through the ceiling, walls, and floor of the ship. Halfway through our fight, there’s almost nothing left to stand on with how many tears there are in the metal from each hit.

A single blast from DJ ends up sliding right past me and hitting the building. The Guild barely has time to react and grab Bruce before the whole place is ripped in half. Bruce almost doesn’t let them grab him until he realizes what he thought was a building starts to fall out from under him. As the Guild holds him up and he stares down at the wreckage falling past him, he realizes they were on some sort of sci-fi style airship floating over the ocean. Explosions of blue and black take over the sky above them as Bruce watches the halves of the ship plunge into the water.

While Bruce doesn’t really enjoy having the Guild having to dangle him in the air above the sea, he knew there wasn’t really another option at the moment. He tries to distract himself with watching DJ and I’s battle, but the shadow flying up out of the crashing ship catches his eye. He turns and stares at Discurse, who he can now get a better look at. Or at least, he _thought_ he was going to get a better look at him. Whatever light hit Discurse’s skin is absorbed in total just like in the ship. It’s like someone had cut out the shape of the two headed goat-dragon from the sky. There’s seemingly no depth to him and too much depth to him all at once.

It made Bruce uneasy.

Another explosion, however, makes him turn back to the fight. DJ plunges into the ocean below in a streak of black while I yell to her ‘I win.’ There’s a pause, then she flys out of the ocean towards where I am. I send a blast of blue energy at her and she goes right back down into the water as I yell ‘I win’ again. A long pause, then she flys back up right into my waiting kick to her face, again, with an ‘I win’ from me. After the initial knockback from it, she floats in the air a moment.

She shakes her head. “Okay, alright, okay.”

“I win.” I say, crossing my cut up and bruised arms that are already starting to heal up.

“Yeah, yeah. You win.” She says.

“Cool.” I say.

A pause.

“Okay, bye.” I say.

“Bye.” She says.

I fly over to where the rest of the Guild is and look at Bruce, who they’ve basically brought up to their level as best they could. Granted, it couldn’t have been that hard since Ambition - who’s incredibly strong - was holding him up by one arm, Realization - who’s also strong in her own ways - holds up the other, and Unexpectations now had Bruce hooked under the armpits by his arms. Muse and Ideas were helping by staying out of the way over to the side. The Discursed all fly off with Discurse through a red and black portal Discurse summons up that dissipates right after they go through.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine.” He growls.

“Cool cool cool, okaay…” I look to the Guild. “Go home?”

“Yes please.” Unexpectations says as the rest nod.

“Alright, let’s go.” I say.  We don’t even move an inch before Bruce cuts in.

“Wait, we’re just leaving?” He asks. The Guild pauses.

“Yeah?” Muse says.

Another pause.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bruce says.

“What?” Unexpectations asks.

“They kidnapped me and you all fought them - Jamie even got _shot_ \- and you all are just content with letting them _go_?”

“What do you expect us to do?” I ask.

“Go after them.” Both Bruce and Realization say at the same time. He glances over to her and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Things work differently here, Bruce.” Realization says. “The Discursed aren’t trying to kill us or hurt anyone or take over the world or anything.” Bruce tries to interject, but she continues. “And yes, I know they kidnapped you and DJ almost shot you, but Jamie will talk to her about that later.”

“Yeah...yeah that wasn’t cool.” I nod.

Bruce glances between us all. “So that’s it?”

We look at each other, then all reply with a resounding ‘Yep.’ He sighs and shakes his head.

“Fine. Let’s go.” He says.


	8. Bad Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman gets to meet some more Writer’s Guild antagonists

It was a two whole hours after the ordeal with the Discursed kidnapping Bruce, and DJ was already back to bother the Guild. But much to Bruce’s surprise, the Guild did not get rid of her.

She busted through the front door of the Mansion and popped right into the kitchen where the Guild was (Bruce was sitting on the couch reading through the comic a bit more.) She sidled right up to me and stole half the sandwich I was making. I didn’t protest at all, since I kind of figured she’d be by soon enough.

Bruce sat there, wide eyed, but still defensive, expecting DJ to do something. She took notice of it and waved at him with half the half of the sandwich she took in her mouth.

Before anything could be properly explained, Ambition dragged me, DJ, Realization, Ideas, and Bruce out of the Mansion - leaving Unexpectations behind to sleep curled up on one of the loveseats and letting Muse head out to meet up with his girlfriend, Monica - forcing all of us into a white convertible straight out of the 1960s with a deep red interior. 

You’d think that we wouldn’t all be able to fit into this car, and you’d almost be right. We couldn’t really. I mean we somehow managed, but there wasn’t too much room. Ambition was up in the driver’s seat and Bruce in the passenger seat, leaving the three back seats for me, DJ, Realization, and Ideas. Thankfully, though, Ideas was a monkey and could just sit on Realization’s lap.

Ambition didn’t let a single person get out a noise of protest before she was already driving down the road.

“Where are we going and why are you taking us?” I ask, leaning up from the back seat to make sure she heard me.

“It’s Procrastination’s car.” She says, not turning away from the road. “I borrowed it a while back and kept forgetting to return it.”

DJ lets out a laugh. “You kept putting it off!” She leans up next to me to speak to Ambition directly. “You kept  _ procrastinating _ it!”

“I’ll kill you.” I say, giving her a side eye glare.

She turns to me. “You wrote the line.”

“Shut up.” I flop back into my seat and stare out to the trees and grass flying by. DJ follows suit right after, throwing her arms back behind me and Realization.

“But why are you bringing us with you?” Bruce asks, glancing over to Ambition.

“Because you were so thrown off by the Discursed you might as well meet the rest of our  antagonists before they do anything to you too.” Ambition says, then shrugs. “Although it’s not really going to be all of them. The Gang Shebang’s probably not going to ever give you any trouble though.”

“Gang Shebang?” He asks.

“Our doppelgangers.” Realization shouts up to him over the wind, making him turn back to look at her. “They’ve really got no reason to bother you, so you can meet them whenever.”

He nods, then glances to DJ, who meets his gaze with a side eye. She turns to him. “What?”

“Why are you here? And why is everyone okay with it?” He asks.

She scoffs. “I’m their  _ friend. _ Or at least I’m Jamie’s.”

“We’re arch-frenemies.” I say. I motion back and forth between us. “We did a bunch of musical numbers one time.”

Bruce doesn’t even bother to nod or pretend to follow that logic. Instead, he turns back towards the front for a moment, though soon enough turns back to us. “So you two are completely fine with each other?”

We nod and glance at each other for a second before looking back to him.

“Yeah.” I say.

“Yep.” DJ says.

Bruce stares at us.

“What?” DJ asks.

“I’ve never met a hero who’s friends with their villain like you two are” He says.

I clap my hands together and hold them out in jazz hands. “Welcome to  _ Writer’s Guild _ !”

Ambition keeps driving on, and eventually crosses into Beverly Hills. The streets aren’t as busy as Bruce expected them to be. Beverly Hills seems about as big as Gotham, if not bigger, so he expected the midday traffic to be a lot worse, but Ambition didn’t even need to slow down. She barely even slows down for turns. Even traffic lights aren’t a problem, with each one we come across already green. But there’s never a point where anyone in the car seems concerned with her speedy driving. Everyone is just happy with letting the breeze ride past. Bruce doesn’t even feel that worried about it. There’s something about how the other cars on the road drive in Beverly Hills. It’s like it’s impossible for anyone to crash or hit anything at all, and that feeling just exudes from the vehicles themselves.

DJ sets her foot up on the edge of Bruce’s seat, shoe brushing right across his shoulder. He shifts out of the way and brushes her shoulder. DJ doesn’t notice since she’s too busy staring up at the sky.

“Is the bridge up?” She shouts up to Ambition without moving her head.

“No.” Ambition says, right as we cross the bridge. “And we wouldn’t be jumping it anyway. I’m not gonna let anything happen to Procrast’s car right before I finally get it back to her.”

“We’ve all got one of the fob things, we could fix it no problem.” DJ shouts back.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. The bridges were down.”

DJ’s only response is to blow a raspberry up to the sky.

Bruce crosses his arms and looks over to Ambition, trying to ignore DJ’s shoe still being in his face. “What’s the ‘fob thing’?”

“Ideas!” She shouts to the back seat. Ideas slides under DJ’s leg and onto center console in the front seat. He holds out a small black object that Bruce takes from him. It’s the size and shape of a key fob with a large blue button in the center of it. The blue is the same shade as my powers.

“That’s the thing.” Ideas says. “It fixes stuff.”

Bruce nods and looks it over. He remembers seeing me use it right after DJ threw me right into the news station back when he was watching the TV at the hospital. 

“Where did you get it?” Bruce asks.

“I made it.” Ideas says with a shrug. “You can keep it. I’ve got more. A lot more.” He pauses. “We break stuff a lot.”

“We also break the city a lot.” I say, leaning up from the back again. Bruce looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I quickly point to DJ, who looks away from the sky and glares at me. “It’s the Discursed’s fault though.” I shake my head and DJ stares back up to the sky. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I wanted to say that Ideas made a thing to fix that too.”

“Yeah, it’s called the Anti-Bomb.” Ideas points to the fob. “It’s basically that, but for a bigger area.”

Bruce nods. That certainly would have been helpful in Gotham a few times. It might still be helpful in some areas of the city in disrepair.

He looks between the car passengers. “By the way, why does the news hate you all so much?”

“You mean Channel 7?” I ask. DJ doesn’t move her head but shouts ‘News Channel 7 represent’ to the sky and throws her fists up to the sky.

“Yeah.” He says, shooting a raised eyebrow over to DJ who doesn’t notice.

“Because you’re all awful.” DJ says, shooting me a smile before I shoot her back a glare, though I’m soon enough smiling myself.

Realization answers before I do. “They’re just tired of having to report on everything the Guild does all the time instead of literally anything else.”

“Really?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah.” Ideas says, hopping back to Realization’s lap from the front seat. “We do too much all the time to the point where they can’t talk about any other city or anything else.” He shrugs. “Beverly Hills has just too much happening I guess.”

“And the Guild is the only thing that’s happening.” Ambition says.

“Do you all just not have any other news besides the Guild? Or do you really all just do too much throughout the day?” Bruce asks.

“Kind of both.” I say, resting my head in my hand with my elbow on the car door. “I mean there’s no crime in Beverly Hills, so they can’t talk about that.”

“And nothing really changes here since this place doesn’t really need it.” Ambition says.

Bruce blinks and glances between us all again. “You have no crime?”

We all shake our heads, including DJ, who’s brought her foot down to the center console and has her fingers interlaced behind her head.

“What about your villains?” Bruce asks.

“That doesn’t really count as crime.” I say.

He furrows his brow. “How? The Discursed kidnapped me. That’s a crime.”

“Oh right.” I turn to DJ. “Don’t do that again.”

“‘K.” She says.

“That was an exception that proves the rule.” Realization says. “Every other time it’s just that the Discursed and the other villains are doing stuff to us, specifically. Like fighting us or trying to kill us. Nobody else is thrown into the mix.”

Bruce shakes his head. “How is that not some kind of criminal activity?”

“Because it’s happening to us.” Ambition says, glancing over to him. He gives her a look, then turns back to the back seat passengers.

“We’d rather us get hurt than someone else.” Realization says. “We’re letting this happen on purpose.”

“Our motto is ‘We get punched in the face so you don’t have to.’” I say. “It’s all there, my dude.”

“And I love punching you guys in the face so much that I don’t ever wanna punch anyone else.” DJ says with a grin to me as she crosses her arms. She turns to Bruce. “So I can vouch that it works.”

“But if you had them arrested then you wouldn’t have to fight at all.” He says.

“Coming from the guy whose villains break out of jail every two hours.” DJ says. I smack the back of her head and she flinches. “Ow!”

I shake my head and look to Bruce. “Beverly Hills doesn’t have a jail, and the closest one is all the way in Cash City, and they’ve got plenty of problems of their own, so there’s no point in forcing our villains on them too.” I sigh and glance to the side. “Plus there’s like, a mutual thing going on with punching people.”

He raised an eyebrow but I don’t respond, instead looking to the floor of the car. DJ watches me but also says nothing. Ideas looks over to me, as does Rea, who then glances up to the rearview mirror and locks eyes with Ambition through it.

“Jamie’s got unchecked and mostly unresolvable anger issues.” Ambition says as she drives the car out of Beverly Hills and up the road to the mountains to the north. “That’s why we have so many fight scenes with the Discursed and everything. She doesn’t know what else to do with her aggression since she never learned how to deal with it.” She shrugs. “Aside from vent poetry but last time she did that…” she glances at me through the rearview mirror. “...let’s just say a lack of action in a follow up conversation made it worse and she hasn’t quite tried it again for a while.”

Bruce nods. He looks back to me as I cross my arms, set my knees against the back of Ambition’s seat, and stare out to the trees at the base of the mountain the car climbs while I turn red. For a brief moment he watches, then turns back to face the road again.

Ambition continues driving up the road to the tops of the mountains. Below us in the valley is Beverly Hills, the forest that separates the city from our Mansion, and the two oceans that sit on either side - one next to the Mansion in the west and one next to the city in the east. Beyond the city to the south is the other set of mountains. Bruce can almost make out the, from this distance, hairline thin road leading around them and another one leading up to the top of them.

“What’s south of here?” He asks, not taking his eyes away from the mountains. The other passengers shrug. He pauses and looks at us all. “How do you not know? There’s roads leading south, so there must be something.”

“Well one just goes to the top of the mountains.” I say.

“What’s at the top?” He asks.

Ambition hands tightening on the wheel. “My parents.”

“So you must have at least seen what’s to the south from there.” Bruce says.

She takes a deep breath, exhaling it as a strained sigh. “The landscape changed in the south and I haven’t been to my parents’ since my last failed visit so no, I haven’t seen what it looks like.”

Bruce wants to question further, but sees that she doesn’t want to talk about it any further and lets it go for now.

The drive continues. Ambition makes sure, as we pass, to shout at Ego’s mansion where it sits on a cliff right after a bend in the road. Bruce decides not to inquire on that either.

The trip goes on in silence as we crest over the mountain and start heading down to the near endless desert on the other side. Sand dunes sit like still waves across the landscape and reflect the sun brightly. We’re only halfway down the mountain when the heat starts to rise.

“If we keep at this speed it should keep us from getting too hot.” Ambition says. The other passengers nod.

At this point, Bruce had read enough of the comic to know who Procrastination & the Distractions were and had seen their mansion...house...castle...orb thing. He had also read enough to know that Procrastination Spark is Ambition and Muse’s younger sister, which makes him even more confused about how any of them are siblings. The only resemblance between any of them is that Ambition and Procrastination both have skin that’s some shade of purple, but other than that there’s nothing physical that connects them. Whatever pair that could produce a living skeleton, eldritch abomination, and a vampire were not people Bruce is too keen on ever meeting. The Spark kids could easily agree with that sentiment, but for different reasons.

We reach the bottom of the mountain and glide onto the road stretching across the desert. Sand coats the black road like a blanket, yet the car has no issues with it. The only effect is the sand kicking up from the breeze the car creates as it passes by, leaving a grainy cloud in the car’s wake.

Everyone stays quiet up until the Distraction Castle starts to grow in the distance. Bruce watches the Castle rise on the horizon. The building’s a mess of other buildings, like someone had made a crowded collage of houses in  _ Better Homes and Gardens _ as put together by a 3 year old who just found out what glue did and turned it into a reality. The shape resembles a wine glass but stockier. Beams pierce the sand underneath from the widest part of the Castle to keep it from collapsing. It’s built over the road, leaving an archway at its base to let cars pass underneath. 

And as they draw even closer, it’s even clearer why it’s called the Castle. On top of the barrage of houses is a gothic castle with towers sprouting out from the roofs of around it. There’s a wooden, railless deck that extends from the giant doors of the castle and over the rest of the building. 

The whole thing is a construction nightmare and, as Bruce supposes, would be impossible in any other universe. He sighs, remembering that this isn’t one of those universes. Least of all his.

Ambition pulls up to the Castle. She makes everyone get out of the car as she drives it into one of the lower sections of the Castle where a garage sits. The rest of us wait for her on the sand covered road.

Bruce looks out over the landscape at a far off storm that’s making its way towards us. While watching the clouds, a dark shadow catches his eye. He tries to focus in on it as it’s way off in the distance, dipping and diving through the sand dunes.

“What’s that?” He asks. We look over to where he does, but turn out just as curious as he is. None of us really came out to the desert much unless it’s to deal with Procrastination & the Distractions.

However, Ambition has spent about a quarter of her life in the desert for reasons separate from all of ours.

“That’s just Sarah.” She says, walking up to us as the garage door rolls shut behind her. “Don’t worry about her. She’s fine.”

“Who’s Sarah?” Bruce asks.

“Eldritch abomination like me.” She replies, staring off at Sarah, then glances at us before walking up the road. “Like I said: don’t worry about her.”

The rest of us exchange glances and follow Ambition, who’s staring up at the castle on top the Castle. As we draw closer, she turns her gaze to us.

“So are we flying him up there or do you all wanna take the stairs?” She asks.

“We are absolutely flying.” Ideas says, receiving a murmur of agreement from DJ, Realization, and Me.

Ambition raises an eyebrow at Ideas specifically. “What difference would it even make to you? You’d just sit on someone’s shoulder the whole time like you’re doing now.”

He rolls his eyes as he hangs off Realization’s shoulder. “I’m being considerate.”

“Oh well aren’t you just a thoughtful guy.” She replies in a mocking tone and with a grin. He shoots her a look and a grin of his own. She looks to everyone again. “So who’s carrying Bruce?”

“I’m not exactly comfortable with this.” Bruce cuts in.

“What’s wrong?” Realization asks.

He motions to his clothes. After we brought him back to the Mansion, he had switched from the Batsuit to an actual suit. “This.”

Granted, that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want to go and meet the other villains. The day had already been so full of meeting people and just...so many personal interactions that he felt so drained. But he equally understood that it’d be a good idea to at least meet the other antagonists at some point, and early on was probably the best time to.

“They already know you’re Bruce Wayne, Bats.” DJ says. Bruce pauses. Somehow, he had forgotten that everyone in Beverly Hills already knew everything about him. It was still weird.

I smack DJ’s arm and get a flinch and glare from her. I then motion to Bruce. “Just because they know doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. It’s like if I fought you without wearing my power outfit. It wouldn’t sit well with either of us, right?”

DJ thinks for a moment. “Yeah I guess that makes sense.”

“Here, hold on.” I say, then hop over to Bruce. In a blue flash, my clothes switch over to my power outfit - a blue tunic and pants with tall brown boots and a blue scarf around my neck that’s big enough to trail behind and act as a hood if need be. With a tap on his arm, his suit flashes the same blue and instantaneously switches to a version of the Batsuit. It’s slightly different from the one he wore earlier, but it’s still a Batsuit with the cowl and everything. Bruce glances down at his hands then at the rest of him. Then he looks at me.

“How did you do that?” He asks.

I snap my fingers and point at him with a pair of finger guns. “‘Rebirth Power, Class: Designer’. I can make anything into anything else, kind of.” I shrug. “Like, I can make stuff into other stuff as long as I already know what I’m going to make it into or like, if it already exists and stuff. I can’t just make something totally new on the fly. That’s Ideas’s job.”

The others switch into their own power outfits as well. Bruce motions to them.

“So what are all yours, then?” He asks.

“Logician.” Realization says, wearing yellow robe-ish attire, though it has pants with it. “I can rationalize things into existence.” She shrugs. “It’s weird.”

“Engineer.” Ideas says, also in something gold and robe-like with pants but has no sleeves.. “I can make stuff into other stuff even if that stuff doesn’t exist yet. Like I made gas masks out of glow sticks and then the gas masks are all glowy and stuff.”

“I’m a Savage.” Ambition says. Her outfit is most red, aside from a brown ‘almost’ skirt with ‘almost’ leg warmers and a top that’s more of a criss cross wrap around her chest. “I’ve got mad torture skills.”

“Nothing else though.” Realization says, raising an eyebrow to her.

“Nothing worthwhile.” Ambition says with a slight smile.

DJ points at herself proudly. Her outfit is mainly black and less robe-ish. It’s more like a tight sleeveless hoodie and tall brown boots. “Destroyer. I break stuff. Permanently.”

Bruce gives her a look. “I figured you do that anyway.”

DJ’s taken aback for a moment, but gives him a grin. “Well then.”

“Anyway…” I cut in. “Who’s taking Bruce up?”

“Why don’t you?” DJ asks.

“I am not a strong girl.” I reply.

“I got it.” Ambition says, stepping over to Bruce. He just kind of looks at her for a moment. The two are the same height now that Ambition’s out of her heels (her power outfit has no shoes). 

She sighs. “Look I know you’re not happy about this, but I highly doubt you want to walk up about a hundred flights of stairs to talk to some people for just five minutes.”

He lets out a groan and she gets behind him to hook her arms under his. Together, we all take off from the road and fly up to the deck protruding from the castle on the Castle. Ambition sets Bruce down on the planks as the rest of touch down as well, then she lands besides us all as well.

“Ready?” I ask with a glance to Bruce.

“Yes.” He says. I nod and we all start for the doors that tower over us. Bruce glances up to them. The doors reach at least 30 feet up and are probably 8 feet thick. The wood of them might have looked out of place compared to the menacing stone castle they’re connected to if not for the flat, metal struts as tall as any one of us bolted to the fronts of the doors. The metal’s worn and beaten, but not yet rusty. Thunder rolls in from behind us as the storm clouds finally creep over the Castle.

We’re only feet from the doors when they crack open with a boom and groan, opening slow enough to allow us to pass through without us having to slow down ourselves. As soon as the last of us are in, the doors halt and creak back shut. Bruce takes a glance at them as they do, but no one else pays attention to them. We’ve seen it enough. 

He turns back to the scene we’ve entered into. The inside of the castle is more like a flat floored cave, yet still holds its implied castle nature. From what little light creeps in through the closing doors, the six tall and thin windows to our sides, and the tiny windows on the far back wall right at the ceiling, he can see the rough walls and stalactite covered ceiling. Columns next to the walls reach up to the ceiling, but they’re carved like any other column he’d seen. We head down a red carpet that cuts the room into a perfect half and leads up to a set of stairs where a stone sits at the top of them.

In the throne sits Procrastination with one leg thrown over the arm of the throne as she leans against the other. She holds a half eaten apple in her hand like she’s going to drop it any second. To the right of her stands the Dream Monger, clad in his white robes that’s hood shadows a face that may not even exist. Besides him are Impulse and Wrongdoing, the snake-like sibling monster duo known as the Twins of Sin. On the other side of Procrastination are Doubt - an Incarnate with only a single eye visible on his pure black body - and Appearance - a monster in his own right, though you’d be forgiven for thinking he’s human, as the only non human element about him is the smiley face mask he wears. Behind all of them, the shadows twist on the walls, making them look alive. The etchings of the throne are filled in with gold that seems to be bubbling and boiling.

Everyone stops approaching the throne several feet from the stairs leading up to it. Ambition stands in the middle and has taken a step forward to separate herself from our group.

“I brought your car back.” She says.

Procrastination twists the apple in her hands and stares at Ambition. “‘K.”

Silence. Everyone just stares at each other. The shadows on the wall twist higher, colliding like waves in the center and climbing up towards the windows above. Bruce tries to watch both it and the gold on the throne as it starts to drip down from the carvings in the stone to the floor. It doesn’t help that he wants to watch the rest of the Distractions as well, since they all have a shared gaze on him.

There’s a heavy feeling on his chest as he studies it all and something creeps up the back of his neck. Each beat of his heart is in his throat and he is intensely aware of each breath he takes, but he doesn’t understand why he feels like this. Procrastination and the others didn’t seem to particularly threatening at the moment, though he could admit there is not a pleasant energy to them. Something about them is dark. But it could just be the room.

Speaking of which, the room also somehow appears darker than before. He glances up at the windows on the back wall again. The shadows have leapt up from the wall and are dancing in front of the windows, playing with the light. There’s form to them, but its not quite clear yet.

Procrastination is speaking with us, but Bruce doesn’t hear it. He only hears a muffled version of it all. Yet he doesn’t try to see what’s wrong with his hearing or tell us about it. Instead, he focuses on the windows. The shadows start to take more defined shapes. They move like intricate paper puppets, yet without sticks to move the hands and feet. 

The scenes in the windows take up his vision, like he’s right up next to them. He sees nothing else.

The shadows take their final shapes. Shapes he’s familiar with. Himself. His villains. Selina. His family. His friends. Even the silhouette of Gotham is there, acting as a border on either side.

He watches. Watches as the shadows make their jerking movements and gestures. The shape of his shadow is going around Gotham and fighting his villains. It seems normal and familiar. But there’s something wrong with it. There’s a sense of dread that pounds at his chest and at the back of his skull. He continues to watch.

His shadow knocks back the villains, but they keep getting up and coming back, no matter what he does. It goes on and on. Every time he knocks them down they get back up. They overwhelm him. They tear at him. He can’t do anything.

Robin arrives and fights the villains as best he can. But he’s a child. The villains overwhelm him. Bruce gets up. The villains run off. Robin is on the ground. He does not move. Bruce runs over to him. Robin still does not move.

As this happens, the villains go after Nightwing in the background. The same thing happens. They overwhelm him. They leave. He does not move.

It goes on and on and on and on, moving from one person to the next. Family, friends, Selina, everyone. There is no one left at end besides Bruce and the villains.

In flashes, he sees what follows.

It is himself, fighting the villains. He fights and fights until he starts to kill them. Every one of them. Each one is torn apart by Bruce. Each one lies dead at his feet in the end. In the end there is no one.

In the end there is only Bruce.

In a snap back so quick it could have given him whiplash, Bruce is taken out of the trance. DJ had sucker punched him right in the jaw and knocked him back to the ground.

“DJ!” I shout, from the other side of the room. “That’s not what I meant!”

“At least he’s back to reality now!” She shouts back.

Bruce holds his jaw and glances around the room. The present members of the Guild are scattered around the room, cornered by various members of the Distractions. Procrastination sits on her throne still, munching on her apple and watching them jump in and out of fights. DJ stands over Bruce and glances back at him. Something slithers from underneath his cape and he jumps up. A golden snake glides across the floor and gives him a hiss. In moments it shifts to a gold, pencil thin woman with a white bird skull for a head and black feathers trailing like a tail who crouches low to the ground like she’s still an animal. 

“Okay, now we leave.” DJ says, grabbing hold of Bruce’s shoulders. He can’t even respond before she launches the two of them into the air and flies straight through the doors of the castle, using her own shoulder and head to break through them. Once they’re above the desert outside, she slows down with Bruce still dangling from her grip by her hold on his upper forearms, hands hooked under his armpits. He glances back at the castle on the Castle where a long black hand lurches out of the hole in the door and reaches for them.

“Now we leave farther.” DJ says, flying further out from the Castle. The hand continues to chase after them until DJ almost reaches the mountains, and only then does it shrink back.

“What happened back there?” Bruce asks, staring back at the Castle in the far distance.

“It was your first time meeting Fear and Confusion.” She says, also staring. “Unfortunately you had to deal with both at the same time, so you got the double whammy.”

“What did they do to me?” He asks.

“Fear showed you your greatest fear.” She shrugs, bringing Bruce slightly up with her. “Or at least one of them. I don’t know what you saw unless I go back and read it. And then Confusion made you go into a hyper trance to the point none of us could get your attention. Except we only noticed that when they started attacking us and you did literally nothing.”

“I didn’t-”

“I know you didn’t mean to.” DJ says with almost a laugh to it. “You were in a hyper trance. You literally couldn’t have done anything.”

There’s a pause. Bruce glances down at the road that’s thousands of feet below him and he realizes that DJ is the only thing that’s keeping him alive at the moment. If she let go, he’d be dead. Especially since the Guild were too busy with Procrastination & the Distractions to fly to his aid if she did. There’s something odd about that fact to him. DJ saved him from Fear and Confusion, and yet she had kidnapped him herself just hours prior.

“I’m not going to drop you.” She says. He glances up at her.

“What?”

She looks down. “If I dropped you you’d die and then Jamie would stop being my friend. I’m not gonna drop you.”

He stares up at her for a few moments more.

“Look I promise I won’t.” She shrugs again. “And I’m sorry I can’t pinky promise you or anything right now since that’d require me letting go of one of your arms and that’d probably end bad, so you’ve gotta take my word for right now.”

“You’re a very odd individual.” He says.

“Yeah and so are you. You dress up like a bat so you can punch people.” She says with a glare. “So don’t call the kettle black.”

“It’s different.” He says, looking back to the Castle.

“No it’s not.” She says.

Another pause.

“I should probably just take you back to the Mansion. I don’t want to hold you up forever.” She says.

“What about the others?”

DJ lets out a curt laugh. “They’re fine, Bats. They’re  _ invincible _ . The worst that could happen is they get tired. It’ll be fine.”

Bruce doesn’t respond, instead still staring at the Castle. DJ waits for a moment, then starts their flight back to the Mansion.

“What are Fear and Confusion?” He asks as they glide over the mountains and are reunited with the green landscapes of the valley of Beverly Hills.

“Basic human emotions.” DJ says without missing a beat. “I didn’t think you were that foreign to the concepts but I’m not too surprised.” She grins down at him. “Surprise is also a human emotion.”

He glares up at her. “I meant the people.”

“Take a joke, buddy.” She sighs and looks back to the scenery as they pass over it. “They’re not people. They’re Incarnates, and so’s their son Doubt.” She glances over to the city while she heads towards the Mansion on the other end of the valley. “Incarnates are total embodiments of a concept. And you’re a detective, so I think you’re able to figure out what concepts they are.”

Bruce nods. “I haven’t gotten to them in the comic yet.”

“What arc are you on?”

“The backstories.”

“Gosh!” DJ shouts and looks down at Bruce who glances up at her in response. “You’re like, nowhere! You haven’t even gotten to me and I’m the best.” She looks up for a moment at the stormy skies above them. “Although you’re actually right before Fear’s arc, so maybe we should have actually waited ‘till you were done with that before meeting him. At least you would have been prepared.”

“I haven’t had a lot of time to read it.” He replies, glaring at the horizon.

“I’m just teasing, Batman.” She says. “Jamie hasn’t even gotten one page of it uploaded yet. At least, not when she’s writing this conversation.”

“What?” He glances back up at her. “I thought you were in Season 4?”

“Just out of Season 4 and yeah, we are. But in Pseudo Universe time. Real Universe time works different.” She shrugs yet again. “Although technically we don’t even have time but that’s...that’s just too meta to even try getting into right now.”

Bruce ponders this as they approach the Mansion. DJ lowers him to the ground and drops him about a foot from it. He turns to her with a slight glare after he stumbles from the drop. Again, she shrugs, this time with a smile.

“You got heavy.” She says. She glances back to the mountains for a second before turning to him. “Anyway, I’m gonna go see how the fight’s going. Have fun doing whatever here.”

In a streak of black light and a  _ boom _ , she’s gone. Brue stands at the door of the Mansion and stares off at the mountains himself. He’d have to do more research about the Guild’s enemies before trying to do anything himself, he figured. Though at this point, DJ might not be as much of a concern as he expected her to be.

But then again, things could always change.


	9. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker doesn’t want to be at the Manor, so he’s over at Harley’s instead.

It was a Friday night, two months since Batman went missing. Harley was spending her night crushing a rival team in Overwatch with her online teammates. While it was usually near impossible to tear her attention away from any game (even if it was  her hyenas, Bud and Lou, trying to distract her), the singing from the kitchen made her glance away from her game for a split second and smile before she snapped her focus back to the game.

The Joker was over again, something that had been becoming more frequent in the past few weeks. Even after all this time, he wasn’t getting along with Dick, who he had started calling ‘Batsham’ in protest. Plus, Selina had started getting distant and hyper focused with the search for Batman,  so he couldn’t talk to her that much. The only person left - aside from Alfred, though they never really got along so he didn’t even consider it - was Tim, but Dick was always taking him out on patrol with him or sending him out alone. So instead, the Joker had just started making it a habit to stay at Harley’s. It’s not like he was really helping with the search or with protecting Gotham anyway. He even said that this would be easier for everyone since he’d be out of their way.

As she proceeded to play through the match, the Joker came out of the kitchen, making sure to shut the door to it again behind him to keep Bud and Lou out of it. The fridge was not a match for their might at this point and they had figured out how to get in the big freezer Harley kept the meat for them in. 

He came over and sat on the couch, leaning over onto Harley and taking a drink of his tea while he watched her play. Food wasn’t allowed to be taken out of the kitchen either unless Bud and Lou were outside, so the Joker hadn’t brought any with him. It kind of made Harley happy that he was keeping track of her house rules. Not that she really would have been too firm about the rules at the moment since Bud and Lou were sleeping over on the floor by the TV she had her game displayed on.

The Joker stayed quiet to let her concentrate on her game, but didn’t move away from leaning on her. His head was against her shoulder, and he could feel her muscles as she shifted the mouse around on the coffee table pressed up against the couch and he would glance over to her fingers dance around the keyboard. Soon enough the match was over with Harley’s team snagging the victory.

“Yes!” She shouted, throwing her arms in the air and making the Joker’s head slip off her shoulder. She laughed a bit as he regained his balance and sat up again on the couch with his own smile on his face. “Sorry.”

He shook his head and set his mug on the coffee table. “It’s fine, Harl. Are you gonna play another round?”

She glanced over at her phone as several notifications came up from her teammates, half congratulating each other and the other half saying they’d need to be getting off. She picked it up and started typing up her own replies. “Nah. We’re done for the night.”

He nodded and leaned back on the couch, watching her tap away on her phone. In a moment, she tossed it aside and leaned back on the couch next to him, stretching her once criss-crossed legs out onto the coffee table, setting them next to her keyboard. He set his head back on her shoulder and she set her head against his.

“You wanna watch a movie?” She asked.

“Sure.”

He let her pick out the movie, and she just went with one of the one’s she knew they both already enjoyed, but about half an hour in she noticed neither of them were really paying attention to it. She brought down the volume slightly, lifted her head  and looked at him. He didn’t budge from her shoulder.

“What’s wrong, J?” She asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He replied, still not looking at her, pretending to focus on the movie instead.

She kept her eyes trained on him until he gave up and glanced up at her. He sighed and sat up, resting his head on the back of the couch to stare up at the ceiling.

“So…” she started. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated. “I don’t care that Batman’s gone.”

The words almost came out like he thought he’d been arrested for even uttering the idea. Like he was saying something the whole world considered blasphemous and he was the only one who thought different.

But Harley rarely was one to condemn him like that.

She arched an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“No. I haven’t cared once since he went missing.” He said, then waved a hand. “And I know I should - he’s the one who helped me become not as terrible as I was. He’s the reason I don’t do crime anymore. I’ve gotten my second chance thanks to him.” He paused. “But I couldn’t care less if he never showed up again.”

Harley leaned her head onto her arm on the back of the couch and watched him as he continued.

“The only reason I’d even be okay with him coming back is to make Selina and Tim happy. That’s it.” He shrugged. “But otherwise it’s no skin off my back.” He shook his head. “Which is weird. So much of who I used to be was dependent on challenging him. Trying to outwit him and beat him at every step. Hardly ever  _ worked _ , but I still tried.” His brow creased, making it look like he was glaring at the ceiling. “My whole purpose was because of  him. And that’s kind of how it was when he was helping me get better. But now...I just...don’t...care.”

“Well maybe,” she started, stroking his hair as she kept watching him stare at the ceiling.  “He’s just not part of your ‘purpose’ anymore.”

He rolled his head over and looked at her.

“Maybe that part of your life is over. Maybe you just don’t need Batman anymore.” She said.

He was quiet for a moment. “Then what am I supposed to do? I’m not fighting against him, and I’m not working with him, so what am I supposed to do?”

She shrugged. “I dunno.”

A moment of silence. He glanced away in thought. The movie’s light played off his eyes in the darkness of the living room.

“But…” she started, glancing away, though noticing his eyes go back to her. “I wouldn’t mind helpin’ you figure it out.”

“You’d certainly be better at figuring out than I would.” He said with a smile. She smiled back.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“I missed you, Harley.” He said.

“I missed you too.” She said before sliding over and resting her head on his shoulder. He set his head against hers. She felt his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “Was that everythin’ botherin’ you, J?”

“Not really.” He said.

“What else did you wanna talk about?” She asked.

“I’m still mad at Ed.”

Harley nodded.

“He answered Pamela’s call instead of one of mine, and he went off and started a whole new life for himself without even telling any of us that he was.” He said. “Plus he wouldn’t even tell her where he was or what he was really doing there.”

“Ed’s always kinda had different ideas about how to get a second chance.” She replied. “He’s kind of all or nothing sometimes.”

“Yeah, but he still could have said something. We’re his friends.”

Harley took his hand in hers and held it tight. “It’ll be okay, J. He’ll be okay.”

He sighed again and squeezed her hand back.

The two of them returned to the movie for a while until there was a soft knock at the front door. Harley and the Joker both sat up and turned to it. Bud and Lou were still lying by the TV, too deep in sleep to want to yap or even notice at the unexpected guest. Harley got up from the couch and went to the door. She glanced through the small window on it, having to get on her tiptoes to reach it, then paused for a moment and furrowed her brow.

“Who is it?” The Joker asked.

“It’s Robin.” Harley replied, confused. She unlocked and unlatched the door, then opened it enough to stick her head out. Robin was standing on the steps up to her house, dressed in his full costume and everything. His motorcycle sat next to Harley’s and her pink Cadillac.

“Hey, Harley.” He said.

“S’up, kiddo.” She said.

“Is Joker here?” He asked.

“Why, Batsham say you gotta take him home?” She asked.

He smiled faintly at the nickname. “He’s got you calling him that too?”

“Yeah.” She smiled back.

Robin shrugged and shook his head. “No, he didn’t send me.”

At this point, the Joker had gotten up from the couch and joined Harley at the door.

“Hey, Tim.” The Joker said as Harley stepped back, pulling the door open more so they both could stand in the doorway. “I thought you were on patrol tonight.”

“I was.” Robin said.

The Joker raised an eyebrow. “Then why’d you come by here? We haven’t done anything.”

“I know, I just…” he sighed and glanced away. Harley look at the Joker, who kept his eyes on Robin.

“You don’t want to be home either, do you?” The Joker said.

Robin stared at his feet. “Selina’s a mess and Dick won’t focus on anything other than finding Batman. I just…”

“You wanna break.” Harley finished. Robin nodded. She waved him in. “C’mon kid. You can hang out with us tonight. We can watch  _ Star Trek _ or somethin’. J told me you were into that my kind of nerdy stuff.”

Robin muttered a quiet thanks and gave her a small smile as she and the Joker brought him into the house before shutting the front door once again.


	10. Something Happened in Season 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman discovers something rather huge about this universe’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if I edited this chapter

It’s been 61 days since Bruce arrived in the Writer’s Guild’s universe. Over that time, he’s gotten used to their energy, their habit of addressing the fiction of their world (something he still hadn’t quite accepted), and had even started joining them as Batman to fight the Discursed and the Distractions after everyone had given the okay for it. And in the down time, they’d take him around Beverly Hills, Realization would explain how the universe works to him, he and Ideas looked into how he might have ended up in the universe in the first place (unfortunately, they were finding no answers), and he tried to catch up with the comic. It was slow going with the comic and he had only managed to get himself to the latter half of Season Two, but with how the research with Ideas was going, there was a dreading feeling in him that said he had plenty of time to finish it.

Tonight’s another night on the town to fight the Discursed. He mostly focuses on fighting DJ alongside me,  which makes sense, honestly. DJ and I have a habit of smacking each other right to the ground or into buildings over and over again while everyone else keeps high up in the air.

As I pick myself up out of the hole in the road DJ punched me into, I watch Bruce fighting her. Me and DJ talked about how she’d have to watch her hits more with him since he wasn’t invincible like I was, and her only requirement is that she would get to punch me twice as hard. An easy compromise to make, in my opinion.

I brush the asphalt off of myself while he dodges out of the way of her kick. She spins around to catch her balance, teetering back towards a car with a batarang sticking out of it. I stare at it for a moment. Once we all agreed to let Bruce join in our fights, we went by the Hyper Realistic Costume Shop to pick up his usual equipment. It was sort of hilarious to watch him try to take in the idea that all of his gadgets and tools were available for less than $20 at a corner store. Saito Shinohara, the store’s owner, even offered to order us a Batmobile if he wanted it. Which, of course, we did.

He lands a hit on DJ’s jaw and she trips over to me. I jab my knee into her chest and she reels back. A hesitation, then a kick from her to my own chest that sends me back down into the hole in the road. My head smacks the asphalt and everything feels like static for a second as I hear her fight with Bruce again. I shake my head and leap back up. I reel my leg back and feel a crack of energy through my system. A moment to build it up, then I kick her right in back, sending her flying off in a streak of light past Bruce. She skids across the road before flipping over and launching herself back at us. Bruce and I instinctually shove each other out of the way and she flys right between us. My head snaps over, expecting to see her to make a U-turn and head back for us, but instead she smacks right into Ben. (Apparently the rest of the Guild and the Discursed are done with their fights.) DJ and Ben crash right to the road as everyone else jumps out of the way.

“Agh!” DJ shouts, holding her head as she lays crumpled on the street. “Ben! Why didn’t you move?”

“Why didn’t you stop?!” He shouts back, holding his own head and slowly picking himself up off the street.

“Did you think I  _ could? _ ” She asks. She pushes herself up from the road with one hand, not letting go of her head with the other.

“You could have tried.” He grumbles. I watch them for a second, then glance around at everyone else.

“We win?” I ask.

“I call technicality.” DJ says.

“No technicalities, DJ.” Realization replies with a roll of her head.

“Since when?” DJ glares at her.

“We called the ‘No Technicalities’ rule at the start of the fight.” Doc says.

DJ shifts her glare to Doc. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am.” Doc says.

DJ watches her for a second, then shakes her head and turns to me. “Fine, you win.”

“Cool.” I say. I reach into a pocket in my blue power outfit and pull out one of the fob things which I toss to DJ. “Now go fix everything.”

She snatches it out of the air and lets go of her head. “I’ve already got one of these.”

“Have another.” I say. She scowls, then she and the rest of the Discursed blast off into the air to go fix everything in the city.

 

Bruce stares down at the hole in the road for a moment. DJ could have easily fixed that first and probably should have since it’s right in the middle of the street. He pulls out the fob thing Ideas had given him previously and aims it at the hole, the blue light fixing it almost instantly. He hooks the fob back to his utility belt before turning to the Guild, but he finds something odd. We’re giving each other questioning looks, though he can’t tell why. Fixing the road was an obvious decision. We’d do it eventually if he hadn’t, anyway. What was so strange?

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“There was a break in the text.” Realization says, not taking her suspicious look away from me.

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like one of those spaces between a set of paragraphs in a book to denote time changes or perspective changes.” I reply.

“Why is that odd?” He asks.

“It usually doesn’t happen within the context of the same scene.” Muse says, being the only one to look at Bruce. Then they all turn to Bruce. He glances between them.

“What?” He asks.

“Think.” Ambition says, almost with a glare.

Her hostility is surprising to him. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. What’s wrong with a text break?

“It’s in his perspective now.” Ambition says. Unexpectations’s ear twitches and he turns to look at Ambition, but no one else takes their eyes off of Bruce.

“Huh.” I say.

Bruce furrows his brow. “How do you know that?”

“The descriptive text was following your thoughts.” Ambition replies. He hesitates, trying to figure out how to respond to that. Ambition shakes his head. “It’s fine. You can’t read it yet still.”

He still doesn’t know how to reply to that. The Guild turns to each other. Bruce tries to remind himself that they’re talking about the meta, and that he still can’t see it like they can. There’s nothing else to it. Like a power he doesn’t have. It’s still a concept he has a hard time wrapping his brain around. As he considers it, it almost feels like a slithering sensation up his back to his head. An almost physical ‘creeping realization.’

Yes, it’s just his imagination making that feeling.

Only that.

Of course.

Ideas glances around at the buildings around them for a moment from where he hangs off of Realization’s shoulders. “Does anyone else feel like the shadows are getting darker?”

A pause, then the Guild leaps into defense mode. Bruce doesn’t follow suit.

“It’s  _ him _ .” Unexpectations hisses, the hair on his neck standing up and his ears pinning back flat to his head. The Guild turn to the direction Unexpectations stares, but Bruce stays staring at us.

“Bruce, stay here.” I say with a look to Bruce. “We have to go after Fear.”

He nods. The Guild fly off in the direction we were facing. He only watches us fly off after the fact.

There’s a sensation behind him, and he looks over his shoulder to whoever is standing there.

It’s Doubt. In his hands is the  _ Writer’s Guild _ comic.

“Do you know what happens in Season Three?” Doubt asks. He has no mouth to speak from. It seems the words just emanate instead.

“No.” Bruce replies. Something feels off. 

No.

Something feels like it  _ should _ feel off. But nothing does. This feels like what’s supposed to happen. He doesn’t feel the need to question it. This is what should be happening. There is nothing strange about this.

“They never told you about it?” Doubt asks.

A pause. “No.”

Doubt, with his one, large eye, watches Bruce for a second. He glances down to the comic book and parts it open. He already had the page ready that he wanted it to open to. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to turn it around to show it to Bruce, but he hesitates. Bruce almost hears something, but doesn’t, then Doubt hands the open comic to Bruce. He takes the comic and looks at it. He understands.

There was something that happened in Season Three. At the end of Season Three.

Beverly Hills was invaded by aliens. The Guild could have easily fought them off themselves. But they didn’t. No. They didn’t. Instead they let the city of Beverly Hills fight alongside them.

And then.

And then everyone in Beverly Hills died.

Except the Guild.

And the Guild didn’t need to do that.

“They didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to know they were responsible.” Doubt says.

Bruce pauses, then nods.

“They’re the reason everyone in Beverly Hills died, Bruce.”

They’re the reason.

They are not heroes. They cannot protect Beverly Hills. They cannot be responsible for protecting anyone.

They’re dangerous.

They’re not good for the city.

They’re not heroes.

“Don’t let them pretend to be heroes anymore.” Doubt says.

A pause.

Bruce nods.

Doubt glances over to where the Guild had flown off to, then back to Bruce, then leaves. Bruce stares at the open comic in his hands.

They cannot be heroes.

He must be the hero here too.

This is not Gotham.

But he will protect it.

He is the hero for the city now.

And he must stop the danger.

The Guild is the danger.

“Bruce!” He hears me shout to him. He turns to me as the Guild and I land next to him. “Fear got away and came back this way, did you see him-?”

“The six of you can’t even keep track of one villain, how do you expect to keep track of all the ones you face now?” Bruce snaps. The Guild is taken aback for a moment.

“What?” I ask.

“And if you can’t keep track of the ones from your own world, it’s no wonder you brought the people you were supposed to protect to be your cannon fodder.” He adds.

His voice does not feel like his own, but he does not notice. This is what needs to be said.

I shake my head. “You-”

He holds up the comic. The Guild stares at it. It’s Season Three. They know Season Three. They never forget Season Three.

Nor should they.

“You all have so much power, and yet you brought people with no power of their own to fight those aliens.” He growls. “You were supposed to be the ones protecting them!”

“They’re the ones who made us take them!” Ambition cuts in, wedging herself between a speechless me and the furious Bruce.

“And you could have still said  _ no _ .”

The sentence hangs there for a moment.

“I wasn’t aware you were that far into the comic, Bruce.” Realization says, watching him closely.

“Someone brought me up to speed.” He glares at her.

She stares back. “Who?”

He doesn’t respond. They watch each other for a moment before he glances between the lot of us.

“You caused the deaths of thousands of people. That’s on your hands.” He says.

“We’re  _ aware _ .” Ambition snarls, inching closer to him. He doesn’t react aside from shifting his narrowed eyes to her.

“And you ignore it.”

I shake my head, trying to keep myself calm. “But we brought everyone back! We spent a whole season-”

“You reversed something that shouldn’t have been done in the first place.” He snaps at me, making me flinch back.

“At least we  _ did _ bring them back.” Ambition shoves her face into his. “I never saw  _ you _ trying to bring back  _ Jason _ or any of the other people who’ve died on your watch.”

Something ticks off in his head. Like a feeling that that accusation should have made him stop, even for a moment.

He doesn’t.

“And how would I have stopped the actions of others?” He asks.

“If you had killed that Joker when you had the chance it would’ve saved so many people.” She replies.

“Do you think killing in kind is the right course of action to resort to?”

“I’ve always resorted to violence!” She shouts, almost leaping at Bruce before I yank her back away from him. She stumbles back towards Muse, who latches onto her arms to keep her from going at him again. Her snarl stays on her face and she looks like she’ll rip herself away from Muse’s bony fingers at any moment.

I try to dial the conversation back. “Batman, please-”

“And  _ you _ .” He glares at me and I freeze. “The  _ writer _ .”

He stares me down. The Guild halts.

There’s always a caveat that’s near unavoidable when situations like this arise. If any other member of the Guild is accosted, there is a backlash from the rest of the Guild to defend that member.

But if the argument is aimed at me and my behavior, there is a pause.

Because if the writer is putting themselves down, there is a good chance the writer, in some capacity, believes the idea presented.

And so the Guild has nothing to retort against.

But we must consider this in a specific light in this scenario.

The Guild will follow this dynamic as the story has taught them to.

But it’s not in my perspective anymore, is it?

“You didn’t have to let any of this happen.” He growls. “You didn’t have to make this the way the plot played out. You were the one who decided the people of Beverly Hills would ask to join you. You were the one who made them want to fight.”

No one responds. I swallow hard.

He’s right.

This needs to be said.

All of it.

And there’s much more of it left.

“You set up the situation. You set it up throughout the prior seasons to make sure everything was perfectly in place. You were the one who made it easier for the aliens to invade and attack your city. Without you choosing how the story played out, they wouldn’t have come to this planet. They couldn’t have.” He shook his head. “But you made  _ sure _ that that’s what would happen. You made sure that they’d be able to get here. To this planet. To kill everyone. And that you six would be the only ones left after the fight.” He steps closer, towering over me. “Because that makes a _ good _ story.”

Being this close, he can see it. He can see in my eyes that I know he’s completely right. Of course he’s right. Of course.

And he can see that it’s getting to me.

“And should I even get started on what you did to the aliens in return? Slaughtering them? Does that make you any better than them? Committing mass murder because you think that’s what you’re  _ supposed  _ to do? That’s what the movies taught you.” He shifts a bit closer. “Or is that an excuse you use so you never have to learn to deal with your aggression in ways other than violence?”

My breathing is shallow. He notices. He sees that weight growing on my chest.

It’s been awhile since it’s been there, hasn’t it?

What, did I think it just magically disappeared after we brought everyone back?

No.

I just ignored it.

But it’s time that I stopped ignoring the crushing reality of it all, isn’t it?

“You’re the reason everyone died. You’re the reason any conflict happens in this city. You’re the reason any conflict happens in this universe at all. You cause it.” He says.

Again, I swallow. But this time it’s only to help me choke back tears, not to try and gain any sort of stronger composure. It’s because I’m on the verge of crying. It’s because I know it all already. I just needed to hear it from someone I see as better than me.

The person I look up to. Admire. Have set on a pedestal so high above me I could never reach it.

My one, ultimate hero.

And there’s something I fear from hearing from him. Something I’d never want to hear, but I know he’d be right in saying it.

And he should say it.

“You’re not a hero.” He says. “And you  _ never _ will be.”

There.

It’s said.

And in a flash of tears and blue light, I’m gone. The explosive sound from the take off is so loud it leaves cracks in the windows of the buildings on the street and breaks the road wide open. The forces knocks Bruce back a few steps and the Guild several more. There’s a pause afterwards. The Guild stares at Bruce and he stares back. Then, in another flash and  _ crack _ , they’re flying after me.

And then it’s quiet.

Very still, and very quiet.

Bruce pulls the fob from his belt and fixes the road. He doesn’t bother to glance up after us. He knows it.

The Guild is gone.

One part of the danger has left.

Now to stop the rest of our mistakes.

He has to be the hero now.

 

“Oh, he does now?”

DJ and the Discursed stare down at Bruce from atop a nearby roof. They had finished up the repairs on the city when they heard the sounds of the Guild leaving, bringing them back to this site. But they did not approach. If they did, DJ would have done something rash.

“I always do something rash.” She says in a harsh whisper.

“Don’t argue with the descriptive text, DJ.” Ben replies.

“I’ll argue with whoever and whatever I want to.” She growls. None of them take their eyes off of Bruce, each with their own level of glare aimed at him. DJ’s burns the brightest.

“So are we fighting him now?” Doc asks.

“Not now.” DJ replies. “Not yet. But we will.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out as a sharp and restrained exhale. “It won’t be like it was with the Guild. There’s no agreements. No understandings. It’s different.”

The Discursed turn to her.

“If he wants to play the hero,” Her eyes narrow further. “Then we’ll play the villains he wants us to be.”

There’s a final look to Bruce, then the Discursed turn and leave.

It’s been a while since they’ve had expectations to live up to.

They need to design the best new impression.


End file.
